Greens
by Herald Kelsin
Summary: This is the story of how the HOlderkin Healer from Brightly Burning who told Pol that he knew of torture made it to Haven and earned his place in the Collegium, possibly stumbling into love on the way. FINALLY UPDATED!
1. Hold

Disclaimer:  Let's make this simple.  If you recognize it, it belongs to Mercedes Lackey.  If you don't, it's mine.  Simple enough for you? 

Hey everyone and welcome to my second real story.  If you haven't read my first, welcome for the first time –plugs her other story- it's done, but no reason you can't read it and review.  For my reviewers from my other story who migrated over, welcome back and nice to see you!

Greens is probably going to be slower plot wise and longer lengthwise.  I learned a lot from writing my other story and I hope to apply that knowledge here.

As for Greens, there is a passage in Brightly Burning where Pol is in Healers and the Healer tells him that he was an incipient Healer growing up among the Holderkin.  This is his story and how he shook off his heritage to become a respected Healer.

The time frame for this story is during the reign of Theran with King's Own Jedin, but the court and Collegia from Brightly Burning is not yet in place.  I'd say we're talking about around about the time Pol was a trainee.

This story takes place almost entirely in the Healers Collegium, so you won't be seeing too much of the Heralds.  Healers tend to be missing in FanFiction, at least as far as main characters go, so here is a story all about the Healers.

This may look a bit like something from Arrows at the beginning, but it won't be, I promise.

I am going to include a pronunciation guide for the characters you will see who's names I am really neurotic about wanting people to pronounce right, and since there are no reviews yet, I have space here.  Emphasis goes on the _italicized_ syllable, and the guide is phonetic.

Tretin: {_Tree_-tin}

Lirain: {Lih-_rain_}

Chapter 1: Hold

Tretin was out hunting for his Father's table.  His Father had decided that although he was not the First son, it was "high time he learned to act like a man instead of a puling little."

This referred to Tretin's discomfort at having to kill animals.  Even though he knew the bow was humane, killing its quarry almost instantly, Treet couldn't help but feel as though he felt the animal's discomfort.

God help him if he tried to explain this to his Father, though.  He had tried, once, in the mistaken belief that his Father would understand his feelings.  How wrong he had been!  First had come the lecture on how it would be his duty as Husband to rule his Steading with a firm hand and if he could not stomach violence, he would not be able to exert the necessary control over his Wives and littles.

He had tried to make his Father understand, telling him about the way he could feel every twinge of the creature's death throes, as though they were within his own body.  The way that, once, when he had been bullied by his older sibs into striking at one of the younger girls on the Steading, he had felt the blow as though through his own body.

His Father, of course, had dismissed it as hallucinations and fancy, had gone as far as to warn him that if he could not learn to be a "proper man" he would be Exiled.  Exile was the worst punishment Treet could imagine.  Not only for the beatings and constant chores, Treet was no stranger to pain and hard work, but because it was a punishment typically reserved for girls. 

Not that Treet had anything against girls, but by threatening him with Exile, Treet's father was basically saying that he was not good enough to be a Son.  It was one of the worst insults that Treet's Father could have put on him, and they both knew it.

As reluctant a hunter as Treet was, he had been trained to bring down game for the table from a very early age.  He stalked quietly through the lush, green forest until he heard a noise that could only be a large animal walking parallel to him. 

Out of caution, Treet walked slowly over and bent down to peek through a hole in the nearby bushes to see if he could see anything.  At that moment, he felt a hand shove hard in the small of his back and he fell into the dirt.  The waves of anger and bloodlust that he had been trying to block out of his mind all day reached a crescendo as he hit the dirt. 

The feelings had obviously been coming from his not-so-beloved brothers, who had just as obviously been stalking him from the moment he entered the woods. 

Treet looked up wearily and tried to stand, knowing already what he would see.  Sure enough, he was surrounded by four of the strongest Holderfolk, his brothers. 

'None of them ever set a foot wrong in Father's eyes.'  Treet thought rebelliously.  His heart sank still further as he saw the Firstborn son there.  Now no matter what he said to Father, Father would assume that he had been being incompetent again or was being punished for slacking, not that he had been ambushed for the sick pleasure of his sibs. 

Treet was still receiving the waves of malice and twisted pleasure.  Hallucinations or not, looking around, Treet could see that they were probably disconcertingly accurate.  He was completely surrounded.

Keltav broke the impasse first.  "Avoiding your duty again, whelp?"  He asked, a savage grin in his eyes.  "You'll just have to be punished, then."  He shoved Treet, who knew by now that it was futile to protest that, in fact, he ad been doing exactly as he was supposed to, and, in fact, would probably have succeeded if they hadn't been scaring all the game away.

Treet careened wildly backwards, landing nearly on top of another of his attackers.  "How dare you lay hands on me?"  The Firstborn son roared in mock fury, backhanding Treet back across the circle.

By the time they had had their fun and left, Treet was barely able to stand.  He knew from long experience that within a Mark, the pain in his left leg would turn to a livid bruise, as would similar aches in other portions of his body.

Treet picked up his bow and quiver, knowing that all the game was well and truly scared off by that point.  He figured that he might as well go back to the Steading and try to come up with a story that would be believed about why he had come back empty handed again.  First, though, he would go see his mother, Elryn.  She was pretty much the only one in the Holding that cared for him, and she always had a kind word.

Elryn was twenty and seven years old now, and an Underwife.  She had been Married off, in cowed terror, at the age of thirteen.  Like Treet, she was tall and thin, with a pointed nose, brown hair and green eyes.  Treet's hair was smooth where hers was curly, and his was kept short, as befitted a man, but barring that, they could have been sibs.

Elryn was naturally sweet tempered, and, as Treet was her only child, she was Treet's refuge against the wrath of his Father.  She was terrified of her Husband, and so Treet never quite had the heart to ask her to stand up for him, but she did provide a friendly ear.

Treet sighed.  Why did he have to be so different?  Even without his uncanny ability to sense emotions and, sometimes, injury, he would still be nothing like a traditional Holderkin male.  He was too tall and thin, with a frame that never quite bulked up no matter how much work he did, which made him a ready target for accusations of shirking.

By the time Treet reached the kitchens, his mother was waiting for him.  "Oh Treet, please say you brought something back!"  She wailed anxiously.

Treet tensed at her tone.  His mother NEVER wailed.  He tried to formulate a suitably calming response, but Elryn read the answer in his face and the in livid marks of a beating that covered his body.

"You didn't.  Oh no!  My Husband, he has been in foul temper all day, but then that new Underwife, little Rella, she spoiled the bread with a moment's inattention, and he just went crazy.  You know him, and you and he don't exactly get along, and he's been threatening to beat you within an inch of your life if you don't bring anything back this time."

Treet opened his mouth to tell her that wailing about it wasn't exactly going to help, when she recovered from her hysteria and spoke again.

"Treet, we've got to get you out of here.  I'll send you on a long errand.  You must take the slowest horse in the stables and go to that market a day's ride from here.  We need more glue faster than we can make it, or at least we will after I'm through.  We can't be without it, and the market is closer than most of the neighbors.  Quickly, go!  Hopefully by the time you get back, my Husband will have regained his good humor, such as it is."  She handed him a purse filled with small coins.

As Treet hurried to obey, he marveled a little inside.  His Father must have been in a great temper for mother to send him to the market.  Usually, it was only the most trusted Hold elders who went on errands to the market, and only when the need was great indeed.  Treet had been told since he could walk about the immorality of the markets, how they were a cesspit of corruption and vile things.

Treet saddled up the slowest beast he could find that had an even temper.  Father or no, Treet wasn't going to be stuck on a long ride with a contrary mule of a horse that never went faster than a little simply to escape a beating.

Treet mounted up and prepared to leave.  He would spend the night in the open, but he had been taught enough woodcraft for survival, and he had money enough that he would buy one meal at the market, along with some food for the way back.  Elryn had thoughtfully included enough for him to have a decent meal, perhaps in silent recompense for the agonies of the day.

Treet passed through the Holderkin lands without being stopped.  A Holder of about his age riding off with all speed on an urgent errand was hardly unusual, although the task was often left to girls.

Treet wondered why his mother had been so eager to get him out of his Father's sight.  It wasn't as though he had never been beaten before.  He had even been put in Exile, although not recently.  He had learned to school his face and expressions so as not to suggest rebellion, and he had become so skilled that he generally got off with only punishment chores or a beating.

Recently, Treet's Father had been talking of Marriage.  The thought made Treet's blood run cold.  He could barely manage to keep himself in one piece, let alone a group of Wives.  Even one Wife would be too hard.  He didn't think he was capable of treating them with the brutality his Father and the other Holderkin expected of their men.

It would be like having a servant, Treet reflected.  This turned him off the idea even more.  Of late, Treet felt enough like one of the servants he had read about in a tale that imposing that state on another was a downright repulsive idea.  To treat someone so that they ended up like his own mother, cowed and defeated.

As the grass sped by under the mare's feet, Treet wondered how his mother had gathered the courage to allow him to escape.  He still couldn't figure out why she had been so desperate for him to do so, and desperate she would have to have been, to risk a beating herself to see him safe.

'I wish that I could just escape, just never go back.'  Treet thought.  For a moment, it almost seemed possible.  It almost seemed possible that he could find a place in the world outside the Hold, the one that he had seen glimpses of before in tales.  Then his hopes were squished.  He had no useful skills, nothing he could use to support himself in the world.  He relied on the Hold for his life, and as little pleasure as it gave him; he would have to go back.  He had nothing else.


	2. Roads

Disclaimer: I OWN EVERYTHING! ALL MINE! -cough-noidont-cough-

Hello everyone and welcome back. Not so many reviews on my first chapter. I got to admit, I wasn't so pleased with that one. Maybe it'll get better as I go along. I have some sweet little scenes planned for once I get Treet to the Collegium, but I got to get him there first, and I'm trying to take this slow. Now, reviews.

Crinzin: Welcome back! I missed your reviews on the last chapters of Brightly Burning. Anyway, yeah, I kind of rushed that chapter out, didn't edit it so much. I corrected and re-uploaded, it should be better now.

Breezefire: Yes, sorry, I'm bad at description. I always feel like I'm overdoing it. I'll try to add more in the future, ok?

Fireblade: I like Healers, they're cool. I'm working on the update thing, but I can feel a bout of writers block coming.

Wizard: Thanks!

Tenshi: Welcome back! Lol, I like him too.

So happy about the reviewage! Anyway, on to the chapter. Sorry about the cliffhanger, by the way. It just sort of happened. –blush-

Chapter 2: Roads

Treet's gray mare was moving along the packed dirt road at a smooth clip. Treet yawned, the passage of the road underneath him making him a little dizzy and very tired.

'May as well stop for the night.' Treet thought to himself. Indeed, it was beginning to get dark, and the twinklings of stars were beginning to show in the darkening sky.

He directed the horse off of the path and brushed and watered her with supplies in the saddlebag he had automatically snagged on his way out. When the horse lay down to sleep, Treet lay down also, head pillowed on her flank for warmth and support, as he had no blanket or pillow with him.

He dreamed confused dreams, in which people from the Hold mingled and did crazy things while floating in the cool night air.

When he awoke, his body reminding him in no uncertain terms that it strongly resented the abuse it had received the previous day, the sun was barely in the sky. Treet was used to waking early, and even in this new setting, his body wanted to conform to the old habit.

Groaning slightly at the pain, Treet pulled himself to his feet and took a swig from his dwindling stock of water. He wasn't worried. He'd reach the market that day and have a decent meal.

The thought of something nice to eat revitalized him, and Treet mounted up, figuring that the sooner he got started, the sooner he'd get there.

After only a few minutes, just the thought of getting off of the horse was more glorious that any other thought Treet had ever had. He was used to hard work, but mostly with his arms or legs. He was NOT used to being in the saddle for anything resembling a long period of time.

Given that he had ample time to think, he began to wonder what his Father would be making of his disappearance. No matter what his mother said to try and smooth things over, she was only a woman, and an Underwife at that, and would hardly be listened to.

Treet had no doubt that his sibs would make up some story about him planning to run away after they had punished him for shirking his duty. It would be just like them to try and get him into even more trouble with his Father.

This whole trip was beginning to look like one bad idea after another. Treet was tired and sore, and the thought of the punishment that would surely be dished out to him upon his return made him feel still more tired and sore. He wished it would all just end.

If he had the opportunity to leave and never come back, well, he would take it without a second thought. Of course, one of those wasn't too likely to come his way. He felt like he would probably even settle for staying on his horse forever, riding alone through the grass.

Saddle sores and fear of the future notwithstanding, Treet was happier than he had been in moons. Away from the close confines of the Steading, his mind finally felt clear and free of the press of emotions that had been getting stronger around him for moons.

He had no idea what it was that made him feel those emotions, was afraid to mention it to anyone else for fear that they would condemn him as a witch. As though he could help it! No matter what he did, people's emotional states seemed to press in on him, and it was worse if they were hurt. He could feel an injury from out of sighting distance, and the scary thing was that he tended to be right.

When Treet finally looked up from his brooding daze, he realized that, in fact, he was almost there. As the ground was fairly flat and treeless, he could already see the colorful blob on the landscape that denoted the market.

As unconventional a son of the Holderkin as Treet was, he began to feel a little nervous. What if all the tales the Elders told the littles of the goings on in markets were true? What if the instant he passed what worked as gates, he would be separated from his purse and beaten senseless?

'Well,' Treet thought to himself. 'Can't be much worse than what I get at home.' That little joke permitted Treet to gather the remains of his courage and urge his mare to her fastest pace in the direction of the market.

When he arrived, he was nearly knocked off of his feet by the crowds of people and their noise. After being away from people for so long, their surge of emotions smacked him in the face like a brick.

He had already paid out some of his precious money for a warm stall in a nearby stable for his mare to rest in while he completed his business. Now, all he had to do was find the stall where he could buy some glue, then find something to eat and head for home.

Treet's stomach rumbled and he grinned sheepishly to himself. 'Well, maybe we can change the order of that around a little.' He thought.

He quickly followed his nose to the source of the mouthwatering aromas that he had been scenting ever since he entered the market. Just as he was about to step up to the booth and order a meat pie, his old shyness reasserted itself.

Everyone Treet had ever known had hurt him, except for his mother, and she rarely helped him in any way. If that was what his own family could do, what would these strangers do? It took another huge hunger pang from his stomach to propel Treet forward.

He said, in the quietest voice he could possibly use and still be heard, "One meat pie, please?"

He counted some of his precious money into the woman's hand, and she deposited a steaming pastry into his.

He could hardly believe his luck! Not only had she not said anything cruel, she had given him a fresh pie, straight from the oven. Treet had never had a fresh meat pie before. Being not so high on the family hierarchy, he tended to get lukewarm food.

His first bite was like falling into the Havens. The flaky pastry sloughed off into his mouth, the warm gravy and meat flowed in, salty yet delicious. The expression on Treet's face was one of complete and total rapture. Treet savored the moment, holding it in his mind forever, to be called upon in the lonely days that would follow.

Treet reluctantly swallowed the last few mouthfuls and stood up. The warmth of the delicious food seemed to flow all through his body, soothing all the aches and pains and filling him with new energy.

'It's moments like these,' Treet thought to himself. 'That make you glad to be alive.'

It was a perfect moment. One of those that seem simple from the outside, but inside, are pure perfection.

Treet wandered through the marketplace for a while, the old fear almost gone. Instead of being objects of terror, the colorful booths and people seemed like nothing more than a new experience, like the piping hot pie, meant to be treasured and savored for all of his days.

Treet quickly found the merchant selling large pots of glue, in his newfound courage he had asked for directions from a merchant in a stand adjacent to the meat pie stand. He approached the stand, eying the merchant.

The merchant was short and portly, balding on the top. Treet quickly engaged him in a rapid-fire round of bargaining, at the end of which, Treet ended up paying a little more than he had wanted to, but he didn't really mind. Holding the pot of glue under one arm, Treet set out to collect his mare and head for home.

He still had a few precious coppers left in his purse, and, on his way out, he passed a stall selling books. The merchant running it looked as though he was packing up to leave, he had only a few books left. Now, if Treet had a weakness, it was probably for books. He owned very few tales himself, but in the guise of studying, he generally managed to wheedle a history or two from his Father, especially when his sibs weren't around to undermine his efforts.

Treet stopped to look. He realized that he had enough money left for just one book. He was beginning to peruse the selection when the merchant, obviously eager to be on his way, snapped, "Buy or leave, don't paw!"

All of Treet's carefully cultivated courage left him. He grabbed a book at random and hastily deposited the remainder of his change into the man's outstretched hand before fleeing around the corner as fast as was humanly possible for him to do.

When Treet stopped running, he was in an entirely different part of the market, conveniently located next to a bench. He sat down to catch his breath, the horse forgotten, and, for lack of anything better to do, he pulled out the book that he had just purchased. "A Study of Healing Gifts in Valdemar, Volume I." The title said.

Treet made a face. What a book to spend the last of his money on! Looked drier that dirt. 'Oh well,' he thought to himself, opening the book. "May as well have a look.' He turned to the first chapter, and the look of boredom was soon replaced by a look of riveted fascination.

_"One of the little known facts about a Healer's Gifts is that they don't just appear fully fledged one day. Instead, someone who has the potential to become a Healer will go through a stage in which he is classified as an Incipient Healer. During this stage, although the youth will not be able to actually Heal, he or she will be able to sense emotions and injury with great accuracy. Indeed, that is the surest test for a Healers Gift, as this manifestation of Empathy specifically attuned to injury can only be caused by the awakening of a Healer's Gifts."_

'Why, that's exactly what I do!' Treet exclaimed to himself. "Could it be that I am a Healer? No, that's too farfetched! Not me, worthless Tretin of the Holderkin."

Treet became so involved in his thoughts that he accidentally said that last sentence out loud.

When he looked around hastily to see if anyone had heard him, Treet found himself looking directly into the eyes of a huge white horse, and it's rider, obviously a Herald.

Treet was nearly struck dumb with fear. He had never believed Heralds to be the amoral hell demons his Elders had implied, but he was hardly going to be rushing up to one. His stomach sank into the regions of his sturdy brown boots. What had he done now?


	3. Heralds

Disclaimer:  M.L owns, not H.K!

Sorry about the cliffhanger on the last chapter, I felt bad about it, but I had to go to bed and it seemed like a good stopping point. 

Fireblade:  More is coming!  Speaking of more –eyes suspiciously- How's the homework going?

Crinzin: Well, welcome back again, hope you had fun.  Grr –thwacks head against wall- MORE description?  I'm going to go mad!

Breezefire: No problem on the reviewage.  Yes, as you can tell, I was STARVING when I wrote the last chapter.  Yes, like I said, sorry about the cliffhanger.  Glad someone approves of the description levels.  –Glares at Crinzin-  I'm just kidding, lol.

Wizard: Thankies.  Hmm, I wonder what she could do –Herald winks-

Lurks in Shadows:  Tis coming.  Right now, actually. 

Badgerwolf: -Herald squeezes the life out of her new reviewer-  Yay!  You're my new hero!  Yes, the Healers fascinate me, and they never get more than a passing mention in ML's books, the poor things.

Tenshi:  Yes, but what would you think, given the tales he's probably been hearing about Heralds and Companions since his birth?  The poor thing is all confuzzled.

Stee Parker:  -Squeezes the life out of other new reviewer-  Yes, I know that bit is a little out there, but I beg your indulgence and suspension of disbelief.  I mean, it is just possible that something like that would happen.

Chapter 3: Heralds

Treet backed up as far as he could, which only resulted in him catching his foot on the bottom of the bench he had been sitting on and tumbling backwards, hitting the dirt with a loud thump.

The Herald moved closer.  She was tall and muscular, as was normal for the Heralds, given the active and physical life they led.  Her blonde hair was cropped short at the ears, and her blue eyes seemed to Treet to be flecked with chips of ice.  Her snowy whites were immaculate, and she cut a stunning figure.

All this added up to one thing for Treet, that it was time to run for it.  He tried to rise, but found his legs hopelessly tangled in the bench.  The Herald slowly advanced, her Companion beside her, a slightly predatory smile curving her lips.

"Don't worry, youngling, I'm not going to harm you.  Why don't you sit down again and we'll have a nice friendly chat?"

Treet was struck nearly dumb with terror at that last suggestion.  The absolute last thing he wanted to do was to converse with this being.  Whatever she was.  Even if only half the stories Treet had ever heard about Heralds were true, she would still be terrifying enough to avoid.

The Herald offered her hand.  "I'm Herald Karissa.  Let me help you up."

Treet supposed it had been meant as a friendly gesture.  Against his better judgment, Treet took the offered hand and sat down as calmly as he could on the bench, scooting as far away from Karissa as was humanly possible for him to do while sitting on a tiny bench in a crowded marketplace.

Karissa glared at him slightly, obviously getting sick of his skittishness.  She opened her mouth, presumably to say something scathing, Treet thought to himself.  Then, she got this look on her face.  It was intent and focused, but staring off into space like the Herald was looking into another world.

Shortly, Karissa seemed to return to earth a little, and the hard edges of her face softened.  "I suppose I may as well tell you why I'm here.  As you may not already know, given your upbringing, you have the Healing Gift.  A Healer at a nearby temple of Healing told me that the Healers there had sensed an awakening Gift.  I came looking for it, and I seem to have found it."

Treet had understood virtually one third of Karissa's sentence.  His nose wrinkled and his mouth hung open a little.  "I, huh, what?"

Treet could see Karissa take in a deep breath and slowly exhale.  "Going too fast for you?  Ok, you have a Gift.  A Gift for Healing.  Once it's trained, you will be able to Heal injuries with, well, you could call it magic."

"But, my folk say all magic is evil, demon's work.  I have a gift for demons work?"  Despite his rising apprehension, Treet remained calm.  After all, the Holderkin hadn't exactly steered him in the right direction so far.  No matter what else his folk said about Heralds, they grudgingly admitted that they were good hearted, if amoral, and served a useful purpose.  Treet would listen to this one, hard edged as she seemed.

Karissa forced a grin.  Dealing with feuds between irate farmers, fine.  Even dealing with littles who knew the basics was fine, but Karissa had very little patience for explanations.  She also had a very short temper.  Riding circuit, mostly alone but for her Companion, suited her just fine.  Training with the Heralds and Veria, her Companion, had enabled her to hold her temper, and she was actually very good at resolving conflicts, but she still tended to lose it every once and a while.  She tended to try to do it in the woods, alone, but that had a varying success rate.  She didn't always make it that far.

"Well, you'll get all that information eventually, I suppose.  We have very little time, and I've got to take you back to Haven with me.  You'll get training with other Healers at the Collegium there."

"You mean, leave my family for good?"  Treet couldn't believe his ears.

"Well, that is the snagging point for most Trainees.  We tend to get them from the city, which does facilitate visits, but when they're Borderers like you?  You can come down here for holidays, of course, but yes, you have to leave your family."

"Really?  I can?  And not come back?"  Treet's face shone with joy.  It seemed that all of his greatest wishes had been fulfilled.  Hadn't he been wishing only recently that there was a way that he could just leave everything behind?  Treet wasn't exactly sure if this new situation Karissa had described would be better, but it would be a change, at the very least.

Treet smiled finally, if a little shakily.  "I'll go with you."

Karissa snorted to herself.  "Not much of a choice, dear.  Your Gift would hang over you all your life if you didn't use it."  She saw the confused look on Treet's face and sighed again.  It was going to be a long ride home.  "Never mind, youngling.  I'm glad you're coming along."

Treet's face lit up at the words.  Him?  Wanted by someone?  It was a thought that made him feel warm and safe inside, even if it was only a hard faced Herald who he had met not a quarter mark ago that wanted him. 

'Sometimes,' Karissa thought to herself wryly, seeing the grin on Treet's face.  'A little white lie goes a long way.' 

"We have a long way to travel, and even Companion back, it will take us some time to cover it.  You will have to ride pillion behind me.  I suppose you have a horse, but her speed will be nothing compared to my Companion.  Matching my pace to yours would slow us down more that Veria will mind the extra rider.  Now, mount up."

Treet looked up at the Companion he was supposed to be riding, and his knees shook.  She was huge!  She gazed at him with one knowing, sapphire eye, and tossed her head, as if to indicate her impatience to be moving.

Herald Karissa was already in the saddle.  She looked down at Treet, but instead of barely masked annoyance, to her own surprise, she felt a twinge of pity for the boy.  Obviously, he was unused to being out in the world, and he knew less about Heralds and Mind Magic than the smallest little living near Haven.  Well, pity or not, Karissa had to get moving.  She had most of a circuit to do, and coming after this boy had put her well off schedule.  If the Healers hadn't been so damned insistent, she could have been halfway home!

This little detour was well off of her circuit.  Female Heralds were never positioned near Treet's home sector.  They would never be able to gain the respect necessary to administer justice.  Her sector was actually between Exile's Road and the South Trade Road, diagonally down to Zalmon and back.

She had been on her way back from Zalmon, on the second half of her circuit, when she had encountered a small band of raiders.  She and Veria, with the help of the local villagers, had dispatched them, but Karissa had taken an arrow in the shoulder.  Nothing serious, but enough to warrant the attention of someone from the local Healing Temple.  While she had been recovering, one of the Healers with the most sensitive Empathy had sensed someone who's awakening Gift of Healing was developing to the point where they should have been gravitating towards Haven, or at least doing something about their Gift.  They developed shielding over time, but it was as holey as an arrowshot target, and not conscious at all in nature.  When they didn't move into the realm of conscious shielding, the Healers had conscripted Karissa to go and bring the incipient Healer to Haven to be trained.  Why she had agreed, Karissa had no idea, but here she was.

She snapped herself out of her reverie just as Treet, with visible apprehension, mounted up on Veria.

'Thankfully,' Karissa remarked internally, 'he's probably been riding since he could walk.  We aren't going to have that problem, at least.'

With a mental cue from Karissa, Veria started to walk at a sedate pace out of the marketplace.  Once they got onto the open road, she would pick it up a bit, but for now there was no sense in rushing.  Heralds didn't like to trample people if it was at all avoidable.

The boy was so small and light, Karissa barely noticed that he was there.  She realized then that she had been so wrapped up in carrying him off that she hadn't even asked his name.

"Youngling?  Since I can't call you 'boy' all the way to Haven, what's your name?"

Treet started.  The hypnotic rhythm of Veria's hooves, along with the easy gait the mare had adopted, had lulled Treet into a slight doze.  "Tretin is my name, but I prefer Treet.  People only call me Tretin when they're mad at me."

"Ah, yes.  Well then, Treet."  Karissa said, not wanting to sound angry with him, but uncomfortable using a nickname for someone she didn't know.  "My name is Herald Karissa, as you may remember."

Suddenly, an unwelcome thought occurred to her.  "Herald Karissa.  JUST Herald Karissa.  Not Rissa, Kari, Ari, Arissa, or any variation thereof.  Is that quite clear?"

"Yes, Herald."  Treet said.

"Good.  Now, I advise you get settled in, because it's going to be a few Candlemarks before we make the Waystation we're stopping at tonight."

This kept Treet silent for a while, but his curiosity got the better of him.  He was already ignoring his feeling that he should have run away from the Herald when he had the chance.  He knew nothing about where he was going.  He was, essentially, venturing into a whole new world, betting that he could make a life for himself.  The Holderkin didn't hold with betting.

'If it wasn't for this 'Gift,'' Treet thought to himself.  'If it weren't for this Gift, I would be nearly home right now.'

'Yeah, and probably preparing to get beaten up again.'  His more cynical half interrupted.

Still, however horrible it had seemed, home was something Treet knew.  A known danger versus a completely unknown quantity.  It was a quandary, to be sure.

Treet decided that there was nothing much that he could do to make it less of one, sitting on a Companion that was heading further from his home every minute.  The only thing he could do was to try to turn the unknown quantity into a more known one.

"Herald?"  Treet asked softy, proud that his voice only shook a little.  "Can you tell me about this 'Collegium' that I am to go to?  I don't know anything about it yet."

Treet cringed, waiting for the slap or shout that his long established habit told him that asking a question would cause.  He could feel the vibrations of annoyance coming from Karissa, had felt them nearly the entire trip so far, except for one moment, when she appeared to feel something like pity for Treet.

When Karissa turned around, she was indeed a little annoyed, although she tried to keep it from showing in her face.  Her rides with Veria were the only parts of her life that were truly hers, not done for anyone else but herself, or at least, they were pleasurable enough that Karissa could pretend that was so.  She did not appreciate the interruption.

She saw the look on Treet's face, though, the hunger for knowledge and the dreadful fear that battled for precedence.    He deserved to know what he was getting into.  "The Collegium is like a great big school.  There are three of them.  One for us Heralds, one for Bards, and one for you Healers.  Probably, when you get there, you'll be interviewed, assigned someone to show you around, and then you'll start classes.  You'll learn how to use your Gift, and then you'll apprentice to each of the older Healers in turn, one from each specialty Healing field, until you find the one who's field is the closest match with your Gift, then you'll start intensive training.  When you graduate, in about four years, depending on your specialty, you will be given a permanent post, usually with other Healers in a Healing Temple, or in Haven at the House of Healing."

Karissa took a breath.  'Whew, long speech.'  She thought to herself.  The youngling, Treet, she corrected herself.  Treet looked more interested than afraid, although she expected that his fears would resurface with a vengeance as soon as they reached the Collegium.

"That's enough for now, Treet."  She said, as he opened his mouth for a stream of questions.  "I see the path to our Waystation, and I'm getting too tired to speak.  I'll tell you anything else tomorrow."


	4. Rides

Disclaimer: M.L pwns. H.K does not pwn. Simple enough yet?

Over whelming amounts of reviewage, which make Herald a very, very happy person. Well, not overwhelming, but a pretty high number for me. There were a couple points in the last chapter that were a bit wonky though, sorry to anyone who noticed.

Tenshi: . Yeah, I guess he will. And nope, she certainly doesn't. Prickly as all hell, too. Not that she isn't a decent person and all. She's just prickly in the extreme.

Fireblade. Well, good luck with the board. I think if I smacked Karissa with a board to get her to do something, I probably wouldn't live to regret it. Heralds don't say ok. Point taken. I never noticed actually, but I did only use it once. I shall never do it again, forgive my small error, please. And yes, I did consider giving Veria a few lines, but I was trying more for the third person fixed P.O.V over the third person omniscient, and since the only one who can "hear" Veria is Karissa, I would have to move towards omniscient. Oh well, if that's what you guys want, I'll try to give her a few lines in this chapter. Overall, glad you liked the chapter. I thought it was quite good, myself.

Badgerwolf: Yes, I did read Owl, but, I'm sad to say, it was a long time ago, as my local library seems not to believe in fantasy sections. It angers me greatly, actually. Anyway, so if I miss a fact from there that I should know, just tell me, because it's been a long time since I read those. Also, I think she knows intellectually that Treet is an Empath, but either she can't help herself, or she's not quite processed what it means. Probably a bit of both.

Lurks in Shadows: Thanks, I liked it too. Lucky you, no more school. I still have a week and a half left, plus finals. -Herald groans-

Breezefire: Ah, don't feel too bad for poor Treet. He's had worse, and it'll be ok in the end, I'm sure.

Wizard: Thanks!

Gackness. I really want to do this story well. I think its turning out ok. For one thing, I'm trying not to rush like I did in Brightly Burning. Oh, just a note. Let me know in your review if you want to know more of Karissa, and why she is the way she is. I have a plan for a good short fic that I will put up if enough people express interest in reading it. Speaking of Karissa, try not to hate her. She has her reasons, and she isn't all that bad a person. Anyway, moving on.

Chapter 4: Rides

By the time Veria halted outside the Waystation, Treet was almost too tired to move. Karissa had fared slightly better, having been trained to tolerate long rides and having built up her stamina through many a circuit. Still, her head began to feel too heavy for her body, and she couldn't help but wonder how Treet was holding up. She headed to the stable with Veria, instructed Treet to go inside and reached out to her Companion for the familiar link that soothed her heart.

_:So, what do you think of him?:_

It was pointless for Veria to ask who Karissa was talking about. Karissa had a one-track mind, and Veria was inside it a good deal of the time, so she knew perfectly well who Karissa meant.

_:The boy? He has the material to be a good Healer, I think. I can't get past his natural shields with a surface probe, though, they are quite strong.:_

_:Well what would you expect, given his upbringing, a naïve little child who trusts in the essential good of people? Not with what he's probably been served. As I recall, sensitive men are not exactly welcome among the Holderkin.:_

_:Ah, so admit it, love, you like him, at least a little. You are defending him, after all.:_

_:I do not like him! He has a valuable Gift, he certainly isn't as annoying as most children I know, and he seems fairly bearable company if he would only stop talking once and a while. There is no call for accusing me of LIKING him!:_

_:Oh, I forgot.:_ Veria's tone was dark with irony. _:The great and mighty Herald Karissa does not LIKE people. It would surely be a capital offense for her to actually be NICE to one for a change.:_

_:Well I _don't_ like them!: _Karissa exclaimed sullenly.

_:Whatever you say, dear. Be careful what you think around the boy, though. Treet may not be a full Healer yet, but his Empathy is completely active. Pretending to like him won't quite cut it, and you'll ruin his self-esteem if you run around projecting annoyance all the way to Haven. Given the life I suspect our Treet has led, his self-esteem is probably not too high right now. Just for once, Kari-love, can't the almighty Herald descend among the common folk? I'm not asking you to force it, but I think if you give Treet a chance, you'll come to like him.:_

Because it was her beloved Veria, Karissa satisfied herself with a glare before giving her grumpy assent. Anyone else calling Karissa a pet name, especially one as sappy as "Kari-love," would have been sure to lose an important body part or two.

_:I'll do my best.:_

_:That's all I ever ask, dear.:_

Karissa growled at Veria's cheerfulness, finished grooming and feeding her and went inside to join Treet.

Treet was standing just inside the door dazedly looking around. It was almost like he had suddenly been transported into one of the tales he used to read about Heralds. The Waystation looked just like he had imagined it, right down to the bed-box in the corner.

Treet jumped as Karissa walked through the door, his feet sending jolts of pain through his aching legs as he landed.

"So," Karissa said, attempting to be friendly. "We have the whole place to ourselves, what should we do? Want dinner?"

Treet made a face. "All I want right now is sleep, Herald."

"Your wish is my command. Here, I have extra blankets. It gets cold on my circuit, so I always carry spares." She matched action to words as she pulled a set of warm looking blankets out of her packs. She passed one to Treet and began making a bed out of the bed-box.

Karissa saw Treet curl up in the blanket on the cold floor, and, now that she was no longer barricading against it, felt a strong sense of sympathy for the boy. From her Collegium training, she knew about Empathy, and the thought of a child growing up with that Gift in a family of cold, hard men who would expect their son to be as hard as them made Karissa shudder. It had to have been hell for him, and adjusting to the Collegia would be no picnic either, with a background like that.

Karissa tried to put some of her sympathy into her voice. "Hey Treet? It's cold over there. Why don't you bring the blanket and share this bed-box? It's nice and cushioned. Extra straw."

"Are you sure you don't mind, Herald?" Treet asked hesitantly.

"Of course not. Not much, anyway." She said honestly. "Just don't touch me or kick me in your sleep or anything, and if you have a nightmare you're on your own." She said, a hint of her usual temperament returning despite her best efforts.

"Yes, Herald." Treet said meekly. He climbed into the bed, making sure to stay as far away as possible from the touchy Herald. Despite the tiredness Treet had confessed, he remained awake long after the Herald had faded into sleep. The waves of emotion coming off of her prone form wouldn't allow him to get a moment's relaxation. Treet felt a sudden burst of compassion for Karissa. On top of all the hostility he could sense radiating from her, he could also sense a deep-set confusion and a great fear in her mind. It was the kind of fear that can live in your shadow every day of your life, just waiting to jump out.

At that moment, Karissa began to toss and turn, moaning softly in her sleep.

'So much for _me_ waking _her_ with _my_ nightmares,' Treet thought wryly. He was new to the whole Empathy thing, but he thought maybe he could try to do something that would allow him to get a little sleep.

Treet tried to envision the sleeping Herald as a long hank of tangled and knotted wool. He extended a careful mental 'comb' and began to slowly tease out the knots. Not all of them, of course. Karissa had a right to not wake up one morning to find her personality irrevocably "smoothed." He only touched the knots that he could dimly sense were causing her nightmare. With an infinitesimally gentle touch, he combed and combed until the edges of Karissa's wool-form were smooth and soft, leaving behind the hard snarls of her personality untouched.

Coincident with this, Karissa sighed a little in her sleep, rolled over and began to snore gently. Although not totally gone, the mental waves had decreased in intensity enough that Treet could close his own eyes and catch some much needed slumber.


	5. Fears

Disclaimer: Wish I owned, but I don't. Maybe if I'm really good, I'll be reincarnated as M.L some day, but until then, I'm flat out of luck.

Wahoo. Chapter five! My goal for this story is one hundred reviews, so thanks to everyone for reviewing and helping me get there. Like I said, please LET ME KNOW if you want to see more of Karissa so I'll know whether to write my short fic. Anyway, reviews.

Badgerwolf: -Herald shudders- Yup, it gives me the definite creeps. Poor little Treet and his nasty family. Oh well, at least I got him out.

Fireblade: You're welcome. You were right, actually, they really helped the chapter and plot move along. Thanks for the advice.

Wizard: I'm not sure, myself. I guess by the time you read this, though, I'll know, so you'll just have to wait and see.

Breezefire: Yeah, that was inspired, although I admit I stole the idea from The Shadow Matrix by Marion Zimmer Bradley. The description was mine though, so thanks!

Tenshi: He is sort of a contradiction, I suppose. He's braver than he thinks. And yes, she likes him a little bit. I'm just hoping she won't spoil all my plans by killing him before we make it to Haven. Even people she likes are in grave danger of Karissa-bites most of the time.

Lurks in Shadows: Ok, I'll start writing my fic-let. Glad someone cares about her other than me.

Crinzin: -Herald grins- I was just kidding, I don't mind. Con Crit makes me happy too. Oh, very good point. I made up this whole character web, so I know exactly what he looks like. It didn't occur to me that you guys didn't. I think there's a little description in the first chapter, but I'll try to add more.

Desert Angel: Yay! Another new reviewer! -Herald glomps- Glad you like it. That seems to be my thing, pulling out little snippets of plot ideas from Mercedes Lackey's books and expanding them.

Whoa! Huge reviewage! I'm glad everyone is happy with my story. –Herald snugs her characters- Right, so, what will Karissa do when she wakes up? –Herald starts to bang head until idea comes-

Ugh. My writer's block is getting to unbearable states! I know exactly what needs to happen, and even how I want it to sound, but I'm having issues, and this tension headache is NOT HELPING! Because of this, my planned story about Veria and Karissa is on hold indefinitely. I will be slipping in some info about her background in this story though, for all interested parties, and I'll get to posting the story eventually.

Oh yes, and please excuse my playing a bit fast and loose with time and space in this chapter. Also, I know that Treet isn't a MindHealer, per say, but his Empathy is a little stronger than that of most Healers, so he can function as a MindHealer on an instinctive level, he will just never train as one. And one final thing, NO, Treet and Karissa are NOT in love and they will NEVER be together like that.

Chapter 5: Fears

The next morning, Karissa was the first to wake. For the first time in moons, she had awakened feeling rested, and for once the cursed nightmares hadn't haunted her sleep. Maybe they hadn't followed her this far out. Of course, that had never been a problem for them before.

Treet stirred. Karissa figured he would be awake soon. After all, it was nearly dawn, and he was probably in the habit of getting up early. 'Oh well, at least we won't be waiting around all day for him to wake.'

Karissa absently began to brew some tea and make porridge. If they were going to be in the saddle for most of the day, they would want a warm meal under their belts.

She wondered when she had gotten into the habit of considering herself and Treet as a 'we.' The only 'we' that Karissa cared about was herself and Veria. Everyone else died on her or left her.

Karissa expected to make a village by late afternoon. She had had only one to go on her circuit when she had been waylaid by the raiders, so after she did her usual round of Heraldic duties, she would be free to head home to Haven, which she hadn't seen for two long years.

No matter how few true friends she had there, or how little her life there meant to anyone outside of herself and Veria, just like every other Herald in Valdemar, Haven was her true home.

Karissa sighed. Hiding behind the mask of Heraldic strength, few people realized how unhappy Karissa was. She longed to reach out to people, fulfill the strong bonds of brotherhood that every other Herald seemed to base their lives around.

Karissa shuddered, clasping her hands around her knees. Her fear would be the end of her, she knew it. One day, she would wake up and there would be nothing left for her or of her. She would serve her country until she died and nobody would ever guess how empty she felt inside, how very empty and alone.

_:Veria, what am I going to do?:_

_:Is it still so bad, Chosen?:_

_:It never goes away. I feel like it's going to eat me or something.: _Karissa laughed, a hoarse bark that somehow turned into a sob before it had fully left her throat. _:I feel like a little, frightened of the dark.:_

Karissa had the feeling that Veria had put comforting arms around her. _:I had no idea that it was still this bad, love. I could feel it, a little, but I thought you had left it behind you.:_

_:No, never. The nightmares follow me everywhere I go. I see her face, over and over again. And then you're there, only you're dying too. Everything dies! They all leave me, Veria. Everyone I love leaves me, so I can't love anyone.:_

_:You love me, Chosen, and I'm not going anywhere.:_

Tears leaked silently down Karissa's cheeks, the accumulation of ten years of hiding behind her hard shell.

_:I thought I didn't need anyone, but I was wrong, I'm so very lonely and alone.:_

_:Everybody needs somebody, love.: _Veria said gently.

At that moment, Treet stirred and opened his eyes. As he sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily, he looked around for Karissa. He did a double take, not believing what he saw. Karissa, the strong, the brave Herald who had rescued him, sort of, was sitting in the middle of the floor weeping into a pot of porridge.

At first, Treet thought he was imagining things, but the waves of emotion, despair and terror battling for precedence, convinced Treet that this was no fever dream or vision. Karissa was obviously upset.

As quietly as though he were stalking a rare and easily frightened bird in the forest, Treet padded over and sat down gently beside Karissa, not daring to touch her, but offering his silent support all the same.

To his surprise, he felt a bond to the older Herald. She was exactly the opposite of him. Strong, self-assured, invulnerable, or so it had seemed to Treet. She was like another mother, or an older sister.

"Herald, what's wrong?"

Karissa recoiled from the offered sympathy in Treet's voice. She tried to sniff back her tears, pretend that nothing was wrong, but her body defied her best efforts, and the tears kept streaming down her cheeks.

Suddenly, uninvited, Veria offered an idea.

_:Tell him, Chosen. He's a Healer, or he will be, he's certainly one of the strongest Empaths I've ever seen without training, and maybe he can help.:_

_:Him? What could he do?:_

_:Did you have your nightmare last night, Karissa?:_

_:Well, no, but what does that have to do with anything?:_

_:He got rid of it for you, I think. You were keeping me up with the distress in your mind, you do, sometimes, when I'm too tired to block it out, then, suddenly it ebbed and I could feel him doing something. I think he fixed you.:_

Throttling her immediate urge to grab Treet by the shoulders and demand what he thought he had been doing mucking around in her mind, Karissa demanded softly to know what he had done.

_:Nothing harmful, I was watching, I would have stopped him. He just took away your nightmare, and it certainly worked. If you can't trust him, trust me, at least. You can't lie mind-to-mind, as well you know, and I think it will be helpful for you to tell him.:_

_:Oh all right. But, I've never told anyone before.:_

Responding to the unspoken plea for support that Karissa would never allow herself to speak aloud, Veria replied.

_:I'll be right here, Chosen. I won't drop the link. I promise, I'll be right here beside you, love. You can do it, and if he can make you feel better, it will all be worthwhile.:_

Karissa took a deep breath, trying hard to relax. If she had learned anything at all during her years of Collegium training, it was that when a Companion was this sure of something, it was a good idea to listen to them. Besides, if she couldn't trust Veria, who could she trust?

Karissa turned to Treet, who had been waiting patiently, barely having moved a muscle. She opened her mouth, trying to find the words.

"Treet, I'm going to tell you something. This is hard, I've never told anyone this before. I know what you did last night, and, umm, thank you, I guess. My Companion, Veria, she says maybe if I tell you my story, about the thing that happened to me, you can fix it so that my nightmares go away. Don't worry if you can't, but I've never let anyone try before, and, well, could you?"

Treet hesitated a second before replying "Of course I'll try, Herald."

"Alright. I'm going to start now. I'm going to do it. And for Haven's sake, once I get started, don't SAY anything. If you make me stop I'll never get started again."

Treet nodded, rather than interrupt her, as her emotions seemed to be weaving into a more complicated mess by the minute. Along with the terror and misery warring within her, another kind of fear was springing up, a general anxiety about telling the tale that had obviously been festering within her.

"When I was a little, I had a friend named Sari. We did everything together. They-my parents- said we were like twins. Then, one day, she started to get sick."

Treet closed his eyes tightly, trying to regain his wool imagery from the previous night. Now that Karissa was actually telling the story, he could see clearly which parts of the knotted tangle that was her were actually related to it.

Instead of smoothing it out completely this time, Treet tried to untangle the largest knots, inserting his newly found Gift between her and her fear and pain. He figured that if he moved the huge tangle that was in her way, Karissa's strong personality would allow her to fix the problem herself, even without the benefit of Treet's Gift.

Karissa's breath started to come in short pants and jumps. She had played over the story in her head, waking and sleeping, but saying it out loud made it real, took back all the distance that Karissa had put between herself and it in the ten long years since it had happened.

_:Steady on, love, you're doing fine.: _Veria said reassuringly, obviously listening to what Karissa said. Veria had respected Karissa's unspoken wishes and not delved too deeply into her mind for the story. Veria could see now that this had been a mistake, but with any luck, it would be corrected now.

"My parents never told me what was happening. They sent me out to play while they had long talks with her parents. I guess it was never the right time for them, but one day it was too late. I walked into her room, we were going to, to play outside. I walked in, and she was so pale looking. I walked up to the bed, and I took her hand and it was cold and stiff."

Karissa shuddered in revulsion.

"I didn't know. I didn't know that she was, that she was."

Karissa could feel her throat clogging with more tears, and all of her old terror of death returning a hundredfold.

"They never told me she was dying. And she was. She was dead, and she was never coming back. They say there is something after this, that we go on to the Havens, but I don't want to go alone, or be left alone waiting. I'm always alone. I was so scared, and they all thought I knew what was happening or something, only I didn't and I was scared. Everyone dies, you see, Treet. They all die. Everyone leaves me."

Karissa's eyes were red-rimmed and wild, her short hair tousled and sticking up.

"If I love someone, or let them love me, they will leave. I can't bear the pain. Heralds are supposed to be strong and brave, but I can't stand it! It hurts so much, so much, but it hurts just as much to have nobody."

"You see, Herald. Even you know it." Treet said, not knowing where the words came from, but knowing that they were right. "It is better to have people beside you and suffer the pain than to never have anyone else to share your pain with. I never had anyone, Herald. Only my mother, and she wasn't exactly a friend, much as I loved her. I know how you feel, and I know it's hard. People are scary, relationships are scary, but I think they are worth it."

"I know, Treet. I really think they might be. I would like to try, but I'm too much of a coward."

"You aren't a coward, Herald. You are the bravest person I know. You saved me, and you have a Companion, which means that she, at least, thinks that you are worthy."

"Oh Treet. Maybe you're right. I don't know. I feel different, at least. Did you try and fix it?"

"Yes, Herald. I did my best. I guess you can't get rid of something like that, a little of the fear will always be with you, but you should be able to sleep without the nightmares now."

_:You see.: _Veria interjected. _:What did I tell you, love? He made a start, anyway.:_

_:Yes, I guess he did. I owe him for that.:_

_:Well, you can start by getting him to Haven. In case you'd forgotten, Kari-love, WE have a circuit to finish.:_

_:Yes, Veria, we do. First, though. Treet was right. I should stop being afraid of letting myself love people, shouldn't I?:_

After her years of training, Karissa knew full well that she still had some shields around her innermost mind. Unlike most Heralds, she had never fully allowed her shields to go for the second bonding that most Herald pairs experienced to cement their Bond.

Holding the link with Veria, Karissa carefully lowered the last of her shields and embraced Veria with her whole mind, wincing a little at the vulnerable feeling. Soon, though, that sensation was lost in the overwhelming joy and love that she felt. She hadn't gone all the way towards solving her problems, but she had at least made a start.

Her last coherent thought, before losing herself entirely in the joy of bonding fully with Veria was "I'll never be alone again."

Once, the thought would have filled her with dread. Now, though, there was only a drop of fear to tinge her joy, and that too was fast ebbing.


	6. Circuit

Disclaimer: -Herald sobs- I can't bear to say it, but I have to. Unfortunately, I do not own M.L's stuff.

Chapter six, here we are. Reviews are going well, I'm only five chapters in, and I'm around half way to the amount of reviews I had at the end of fourteen chapters of my other story. Looking good for success. Speaking of reviews, here they are.

Crinzin: Thanks, although, if you reread the first chapter and the one where Treet and Karissa meet, you should find a little description in there. I thought that would cover it, but I shall continue to add more.

Wizard: Well, don't count on a sudden easy relationship. Both of them are a bit turned around, and I'd be very surprised if they let me make things easy for them.

Breezefire: Originally, I did not intend for them to become friends or more than acquaintances, but they seem to have had other ideas, so we shall see how it goes. As to your other point, no fear. I have no intentions of suddenly having Karissa turn into a cuddly, fuzzy little thing. As one of my favorite HP/SS writers said about Severus Snape, "a Snape without Snark is not a Snape at all." Well, a Karissa without snark is not a Karissa at all either. I have no intentions of rolling all over her basic personality structure. I suspect she will always be a bit prickly, and those who can't deal will just have to go somewhere else.

Tenshi: Thank you. I quite like them myself. Of course, she never fully bonded with her Companion, did she? Like you, everyone assumed that she was fine, and on the outside, she was. She was so alone, but maybe she'll sort herself out. I'll do my best.

Lurks in Shadows: It was a little sad, no? I nearly made myself cry, writing it, but then, I'm just overly sensitive.

Desert Angel: Thanks, glad you like it.

Fireblade: Well, not quite, but I'm working on it. You're right about Broken, too. It should have been more in-depth, but I just wrote it to get rid of writers block on this story.

Ok, Treet and Karissa are back on the road again. I'd call it, hmmm, three, maybe four chapters until they reach Haven, including this one.

Chapter 6: Circuit

Karissa and Treet were trying their best not to look at each other. Treet didn't really mind, but every time Karissa thought she saw him looking, she gave him a glare telling him that if he wanted to keep his head intact, he had better turn it the other way.

They were hurriedly consuming the pot of porridge Karissa had cooked earlier. It tasted none the worse for the added salty water.

Karissa's eyes were still red and blotchy, contrasting with her naturally pale face and icy blue eyes. Physically, she felt like hell. Her head hurt, a dreadful pounding ache right behind her eyes, and every inch of her skin felt swollen and red.

In other ways, however, things were quite different. In those ways, she had never felt better. Not since. She flinched. Not since before IT had happened.

Veria had always been there before, open to a casual touch or reach, but never within Karissa's mind. Karissa's mind was like a fortress, with high walls to keep people out. Now, though, everything had changed. Veria was there. Right there. Karissa could feel Veria in the back of her head constantly.

'This'll take getting used to,' Karissa thought wryly.

"I'm going outside to duck my head in the pond. Can you be ready to ride when I get back?" Karissa asked Treet, as she finished washing her plate.

"Yes, Herald." Treet replied respectfully, picking up his bowl and beginning to scour it clean.

By the time Karissa had thoroughly wetted herself from the neck up, she felt a lot more like a human being again.

She went into the stables and began to groom and saddle Veria. It seemed like everything had changed in just a few short hours. Before, grooming Veria had been, well, like grooming a horse. Now, with Veria constantly in the back of her mind, it was more of a mutual pleasure. She no longer needed Veria to tell her where to brush, she knew exactly what to do.

After a few minutes, she sadly put the brush away, knowing that if she was going to reach her last village in time, she would have to saddle immediately and ride fast.

_:Oh, Chosen, I've been waiting for this moment for so long.:_

_:Yeah, well you better not take advantage!: _Karissa snapped, knowing as she did so that Veria would never do any such thing, but needing to say something to regain a sense of control over the situation.

Veria seemed to notice this and ignored the insulting implications of the statement.

Shortly thereafter, Karissa was ready to ride. As Treet came out, carrying their packs and equipment, for the first time in ten years, Karissa was once again embarrassed to meet Treet's eyes.

She couldn't resist thinking that he knew too much. He knew too much, and he was getting too close. In only a few short days, Treet had won her heart. He was so confused and alone, yet so strong and competent. Of course, he was also extremely dangerous. Karissa didn't know what she would do if people from the Collegium found out about her past.

_:Kari, my love, do you really think Treet would do that to you?:_

_:Well no, but a little insurance can go a long way.:_

Treet balanced their packs on their mule and took Karissa's offered hand, mounting up behind her.

Instead of releasing his hand, Karissa tugged it a little so that he was looking into her eyes.

"I've been through Heraldic training, Treet. I know at least five ways to kill you, and if I find out that the whole Collegium knows about this morning, I will be sure to employ one of them." Karissa threatened, keeping her voice low and menacing, without so much as a hint of the tremor she was trying to suppress.

Treet flinched a little, but forced himself to hold steady. This whole experience was like a crash course in reading people's emotional states. Figure out what the deranged Herald needs, then hand it to her before one or both of you dies a very messy death.

Bearing all of this in mind, Treet tried his very hardest not to run away screaming. The tone in her voice could probably have blistered the fur off of a horse.

"Why would I do that, Herald? I wouldn't tell anyone something that might embarrass you, even if I wasn't under sentence of death."

Treet tried to keep his voice calm and soothing, remembering that the Herald was probably more afraid than he was.

"I don't need your pity!" Karissa snapped, accurately reading the expression on Treet's face. "Just don't tell anyone."

"I won't, Herald." Treet bowed his head and remained silent, giving Karissa time to collect herself. Veria, however, suffered from no such silence.

_:Now Chosen, that was a bit harsh, don't you think?:_

_:Hey, the last thing I need is the entire Collegium running around with the misconceived notion that I am some sort of cuddly little teddy bear, and the only thing I need less than that is everyone trying to comfort me!: _Karissa said, ignoring the basic contradiction of that statement.

_:Kari, Chosen, why do you persist in thinking that the entire world is out to betray you. He will not tell. Give him the benefit of the doubt, why don't you?:_

_:Humph. Well, I guess I owe him that. And please stop calling me Kari! How many times do I have to tell you, my name is Karissa!:_

Veria took that to be the grab for control that it once again was, and resolved to continue calling her Chosen exactly as she pleased, knowing that Karissa did not particularly mind, loud protestations to the contrary.

After a while, Treet grew bored of his self-imposed silence. "Herald, where are we going?"

Out of habit, she shot him a look that would have frozen the Terilee several times over, had it been thusly directed, then softened slightly. "We're going to Krimar."

"Why, Herald?"

"Well, in case you were under the impression that I came all the way from Haven to carry you off, you are very much mistaken. I was on circuit." She sighed at the look of incomprehension on Treet's face. "Circuit is what we Heralds do. We go around the kingdom on our pretty little ponies and dispense justice whither we wander. I was nearly done my circuit. I had one more village to go, and it was Krimar. We shall go there and I'll do my thing, then I shall resume returning you to Haven."

"Oh."

Treet was silent for a while, pondering the implications of that statement. He couldn't quite imagine the grumpy, short-tempered Herald Karissa, or anyone else he knew, for that matter, running around voluntarily helping out a bunch of strangers. 'Must be a Herald thing,' he thought.

It had been a long day, and Treet was accustomed to being in the saddle and in no danger of falling off. As such, it was hardly shocking when his head began to nod, and soon he was fast asleep.

Karissa watched nervously as his head descended closer and closer to her back. When it made contact, she flinched and made as if to push him off of her. Then she felt Veria's urging and support in the back of her mind. Veria obviously approved of Treet, and approved more of the way he appeared to be thawing Karissa's icy armor.

Sighing, Karissa let him rest there, his weight warm against her back.

_:Not that I like him, of course.: _Karissa hurriedly assured Veria, when she could tell that Veria could sense how her thoughts were turning.

_:Of course not.: _Veria agreed, but there was a smile in her MindVoice.

Shortly thereafter, Veria arrived at the gates of Krimar. Karissa poked Treet gently, then more firmly.

"Treet, get up. We're here."

"Huh? Here? Oh. Krimar. I get it. Are you going to go do the Herald stuff now, Herald? Are."

Treet's words were abruptly silenced when he saw the village. It was different from any village he had ever seen before. The houses were tiny and far more colorful that any Hold Elder would ever have allowed.

"I don't want to go in there!" Treet wailed.


	7. Duties

Disclaimer:  This all belongs to me!  -Herald's nose begins to grow-  Ok, ok, it doesn't.

Chapter seven.  I like the number seven.  It's a nice sort of in between number.  Also, for some reason, it sounds much bigger than six even though it really isn't.  Anyway, enough rambling.

This chapter is dedicated to my devoted reviewer Breezefire and her story, "Poison and Prison."  She's sad because nobody ever reviewed the last chapter but me, and only Fireblade and I reviewed the latest one.  So, if you have a spare moment, or just feel like being nice, please go and review her story, because it is really good.  Thanks!

Anyway, speaking of reviews, 'tis time to respond to my faithful followers.  Or something like that.  –Herald looks confused-

 Tenshi:  Yes, I tried to add in some humor to balance the depressing nature of the last chapter.  Glad you liked it.  Sorry about the ending, once again, I had to go to bed and I wanted to get a chapter up that day.

Wizard:  Thankies, I'm working on it.

Breezefire:  Thanks.  I'm glad you noticed that little element of her character.  It made me quite happy when I figured out how to write it in.  I'll try to add more description in this chapter, I promise.

Fireblade:  He certainly is, isn't he?  -Herald snugs Treet-

Stee Parker:  -Herald growls and kicks all finals-  I have them starting day after tomorrow, so I completely sympathize.  Yes, that one sentence was a little whacked out, I freely admit, but I was confuzzled as to how else to work that scene.  Thanks, and yes, I'm glad that Karissa got her Bond worked out.  I didn't mean for that to happen, she wasn't supposed to be a main character, but she got me interested and she ended up stealing the spotlight, at least until we get to Haven.

Not many reviews on that last chapter.  I hope we aren't going into a decline.  Oh well, maybe more will come before I publish this.  Nope, apparently they didn't.  Well, one did.  Still, I am most disgusted with the severe lack of reviews.

Chapter 7: Duties

Karissa turned to stare at Treet.  "What?"  Her voice was calm, but it held a sharp core of ice.

"Can I stay here with the horse, err, Companion?  I don't think I'm going to go in there."

"Oh, don't be stupid," Karissa said.  "For one thing, Veria is coming with me.  For another, you have no idea how upset my Collegium is going to be if I tell them I lost their Healer Trainee.  Therefore, much as I might like to sometimes, I cannot lose you.  To that end, you are going wherever I go, and I am going in there." 

Karissa cued Veria mentally, so that Treet would not have time to dismount and run.

:Veria, be a love and speed up a bit, would you?  Just until we are sure we aren't going to lose our passenger.:

The normally serious Veria sent the image of a huge grin, then sobered again.

:Yes, alright, Chosen.  But only because he needs to learn to get used to the country his life will be devoted to one day.  You should really be nicer to him, you know.  Does your pride demand that every person who sees a weakness of yours be beaten down to nothing in retaliation?  He would be your friend, Kari, if you would let him.:

_:Just speed up, horse.  I haven't got the time to listen to your moral lectures.  We have a job to do, if you had forgotten.:  _Karissa said peevishly.

Without warning Karissa first, Veria sped up to a ground devouring pace, nearly causing Karissa to lose her seat in surprise, although years of training in horsemanship enabled her to stay on, if not in a graceful fashion.

Luckily for Treet, in her wild groping for a handhold, she also managed to pull him further into the saddle, preventing him from slipping off of the back.

Once they had entered the village and Veria had slowed, Karissa remarked to Treet, in an almost friendly voice.  "Normally, I would have to stay here a few days to sort the village out, but given our situation and the small size of this particular village, I think I can finish everything I need to do here before tonight.  We can camp out in a Waystation and we should reach Haven tomorrow afternoon.  Now, you stay here with Veria, where the villagers can see her, she can watch you and you don't have to go any further into the village.  I have duties to attend to."

Treet watched in awe as Karissa straightened her back, shook her blonde helmet into place and strode off briskly in the direction of a large crowd of people obviously waiting to welcome her, her Herald mask firmly in place over her face.

Treet lay back, figuring that if he was going to be stuck in this strange place for any length of time, he may as well get comfortable.

The grass was sun warmed and comfortable underneath him, the ground with just enough bounce in it to give him the feeling of sinking into it. 

Treet laid his head down last, and nearly jumped up in the air as his head touched, not grass, but the warm flank of a Companion.

Treet jerked back as though he had been burned, stammering his apologies.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

The Companion just nodded her wise head at him, but Treet saw that it was meant as a friendly nod, and was reassured.

"You know, I mean no disrespect to your Herald, but I wish she would just trust me.  Or at least be nice to me openly.  All this pretending she doesn't is getting tiring."

Veria fixed one sapphire eye on him.

"That sounded vain, didn't it?  I can feel it though.  I have no idea what's going on with this whole Gift thing, but I can certainly tell when I'm picking something up, and I think she isn't half as angry with me as she makes out."

Veria whickered her form of a laugh.  If only her Chosen realized how transparent she was sometimes.  All this time Karissa had been so proud of concealing her liking for Treet, and she needn't have bothered at all.

"Sometimes I wish she would explain things to me.  Or at least understand how confusing it is to be picked up, shoved on the back of a being that highly resembles a white horse and carted all over the country, the only explanation being that I can do some odd stuff that lets me know how people are feeling and if they are hurt.  Honestly, I mean no disrespect, but I already knew that."

Treet sighed.  "Sometimes I wish I were back home.  Well, not really.  I didn't like it there, I was never happy, never loved or appreciated, but at least I knew my place.  My place was at the bottom, but I knew where it was.  There was no uncertainty.  I knew exactly what would happen, each and every day."

"I miss my mother, too.  I don't know if she meant for me to take a chance at freedom, but she is probably being beaten for my escape right now.  I wish I could save her, but I know I can't.  As much as she hates my Father, I don't think she would know what to do with herself out here.  If it weren't for your Herald, I wouldn't know what to do with myself either.  One of her best attributes, isn't it?  Sweeping you up in her blind certainty and carrying you off.  Does she do that to you as well?"

Treet was nudged out of his musings, literally, by the introduction of a large snout to his shoulder.  In the distance, he could see Herald Karissa setting up some sort of a table in front of one of the largest buildings in the village.  She still had her pleasant Herald face on, so Treet honestly could not have told how she was feeling, although he could render a decent guess.

The villagers were all gathered around the table, seemingly shouting.  Karissa raised her hands as if begging them to calm down.

'She's hardly a one to talk of calming.'  Treet thought with amusement, relishing seeing the dignified and explosive Herald surrounded by a mob of impatient villagers, all demanding that she attend to their needs first.

Veria stood up then, shaking her head and preparing to go over to Karissa.

:Do you need me, Chosen?:

_:If you can shut these yammering fools up for more than five seconds, your help would be greatly appreciated.  And bring the boy.  If he runs off, both of us will be in the fire when we get back, seeing as I believe the oh-so-kind Healers who send us off on this fool's quest have already sent word to Haven about their latest Trainee.:_

_:I'm on my way, then.:  _Veria said, before Karissa could get started on complaining about Treet.

Veria sedately began to pace towards Karissa, shoving Treet with her nose until he followed. 

Treet walked as slowly as was humanly possible, wanting to keep as much distance as he could between him and the villagers.

They were to his fellow Holderkin as a bright songbird is to a drab sparrow.  Still, even the brightest of songbirds harbors a sharp beak, and who knew what these people would make of him.  He could feel the vibrant energy spilling from them, so utterly at odds with anything he had ever felt before.

Before Treet knew it, he had been emphatically shoved onto a patch of grass near the crowd, and Veria had gone on, marching through in such a sedate and graceful manner that all of the villagers stopped arguing to stare at her.

Herald Karissa's commanding voice broke through the silence.  "Right.  Now that we are all calm again and can think rationally, let's start from the beginning."

She beckoned to a young man who looked to be in his early thirties.  She closed her eyes and screwed her face up.  Soon, a glowing nimbus of blue light was visible around the young man's head.

Treet was amazed.  Surely this couldn't be the truth spell!  That was the stuff of legends and tales, not for ordinary folk like him to witness.

"Now."  Karissa said, looking awfully calm for someone who had just performed magic, Treet thought.  "Tell me your story from the beginning.  Leave nothing out and do not lie, for I will know if you do."

"Well, Herald, my mother died when I was a little.  She had a wasting illness.  A few years later, my father remarried this woman here."  He gestured to a woman in the crowd, mousy haired and decidedly older than himself.  "When he," the young faltered in pain.  "When he died last moon and his will was read, he left all of his money to me, but all of his goods and the home to her."  He gestured to the woman again.

Treet watched interestedly as the blue glow enveloped the man's head totally, never faltering or fading.

"When I took out his money and with it his record books, the money left comprised a sum far less than that listed in his ledgers. The only ones with access to this money were me and my stepmother, and as I know that I did not touch it, the only one that could have done it is her!"

The glow again did not falter, signifying, Treet assumed, that the man was telling the truth as he saw it.  Which, Treet knew, was not always the same as what had exactly happened.

The Herald surely saw this, for she beckoned the wife forwards.  At that moment, Karissa's face screwed up in concentration and the blue aura around the man diminished and vanished, reappearing around the head of the woman, though she appeared oblivious to it.

"Now, mistress, tell me your side of the story, please."  Herald Karissa instructed, the tang of command in her voice.

"Herald, I swear it, I never touched anything of Edrich's.  Even after he."  She, too, faltered on the word.  "Even after he died, I touched nothing of his before the reading of the will.  I had seen his books before, when I agreed to marry him.  I knew nothing of them, as I am but a jeweler, and his books look nothing like mine, but when I saw them, his sums were accurate and the books themselves looked well kept and accurate from what I could tell.  Truly, Herald, I know not how this could have come about!"

The blue glow, once again, showed no signs of faltering.  Karissa was obviously puzzled, that these two contradictory testimonies had both been verified as true.

The Herald then asked to examine the record books of the merchant.  She examined the books for what seemed like an entire candlemark to Treet, and then asked questions of the other villagers about the man's job and personal attributes.

At length, Herald Karissa smiled, the smile of triumph and pride at figuring out the mystery.  She turned again to the man's wife.

"Mistress, before you married Edrich, you examined his books?  What were you looking for?"

"Mostly to make sure that his business was not failing, that he would not use my earnings to support his own trade."

"Was your marriage only a business transaction, then?"  Karissa asked sharply.

"No!  Not in any way!  Edrich truly loved me.  More than I loved him at first, for he would have done anything to convince me to marry him, and I was indifferent.  Yet, after I agreed and we were married, we grew on each other, and by the time a moon had passed, I sincerely loved him!"  The woman seemed close to tears at this question, the affront to her husband's memory almost unbearable.

"Shhh."  Karissa soothed the woman with more compassion than many would have given her credit for.  "Nobody here doubts you.  I think we may have found our answer, though."

"Y-you did?"  The woman asked shakily.

"Yes.  You see, your husband desired to please you, prove that his business was not failing.  He changed his figures.  You see, spice merchants like him never deal in round numbers like those he has listed here.  He must have rounded up his figures to seem more prosperous."  Karissa saw the look on the woman's face, almost as though she was about to sob. 

"It is no great shame.  He was young and in love, he did what seemed best at the time.  There is no justice to mete out here.  I'm afraid though," she turned to the son.  "Your inheritance is less than you thought."

"Yes."  He said, slightly disappointed, then he cheered up.  "But I received everything that I was entitled to.  Thank you, Herald."

"That's what we're here for."  Karissa reminded him kindly.  "However, I must insist that my Companion and I depart now and get some rest, if none of you need anything else."  It was almost a question.  Of course, an affirmative answer would cause Karissa's sharp fangs, veiled all day, to come out and bite.  Treet could see this fact with no difficulty at all.

"It has been a long day, and we are very tired."  Karissa continued, seemingly oblivious to Treet's scrutiny.

Wearily, Karissa finished tying up her last loose ends in the village and beckoned to Treet.  "Come on, let's go get some rest."

Treet was not inclined to disagree.


	8. Sleep

Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. Nothing is mine except the characters, which continue to inform me most emphatically that they are mine, and will continue rummaging in my brain any time they please, thank you very much.

Herald Kelsin is happy, very, very happy. (This is where you run away screaming.) She got some nice long reviews on the last chapter, and so she is happy. Very long reviews cause very much happiness.

Fireblade: Thank you! Heh, I thought that was inspired myself.

Breezefire: You're welcome, and I love your story. Yup, Lan had it in Brightly Burning, and he figured it out very fast, because he was a merchant's child.

Tenshi: Thankies for the review and good luck with the sleep!

Wizard: Yes, it was from Brightly Burning, my current source of inspiration for all things Misty. You thought it was dull? I'll try to make it more exciting, but we should be in Haven soon, which will be exciting in and of itself. That was more of an exposition chapter, really.

Badgerwolf: Thanks, like I said, I got it from Brightly Burning. Yeah, I know, touchiness abounds. What can I say? It's finals and regents week, so my mood was not all that great to begin with.

Vaches: New reviewer! -Squeezes the life out of you- There, having completed my new reviewer ritual, thanks for the review and the complement. You're right, Healers are way underrepresented, and they deserve more story time. Misty should write a book about one.

Ok, on to chapter, where are we? Oh yes, chapter 8. This chapter, then one more, then the long awaited chapter: HAVEN! Wahoo!

The next chapter should come fast, we'll be there soon. It's finals week, so I only have around an hour of school a day, plus I'm sick (sinus infection and ear infection) so I have nothing better to do than sit here and bang out this story, writers block permitting.

Sorry this chapter took so long. Like I mentioned in Broken, writers block likes me right now, and has cuddled in very close and decided to stay a while.

Of course, last night, Karissa decided to inform me that if I left her stuck "on a white horse with that annoying boy" for any longer, she would make my life most unpleasant.

Between writers block and Karissa, well, I figured I'd try and bang something out, although I'm not so happy with this chapter as I could be.

Anyway, moving on.

Chapter 8: Sleep

By the time Karissa and Treet reached the Waystation, they were almost too tired to fall from the saddle. Treet was suffering because he was unused to riding for so long at a stretch. Karissa was always exhausted after stopping at a village or town. Even after years of practice, it was still hard for her to keep her Heraldic mask of passivity and patience up for any length of time.

As such, they both sat there staring blankly into space for a few minutes before they realized that Veria had stopped and that they were supposed to dismount.

Veria tossed her head and sniffed loudly, making it quite clear what her opinion was on Heralds who were too tired even to get off of their Companions.

Jolted out of her trance, Karissa dismounted, albeit a little shakily, and, after helping Treet down, began to care for Veria.

Treet stared at her retreating back, wondering if now was a good time to talk to her. He needed to have a serious discussion with her.

Treet laughed to himself. The thought of him, the little Holderkin reject, conspiring to have a serious discussion with a Herald was laughable. He wondered what his family would say if they could see him now.

"Improper!" Father's Mother would sniff.

"All alone with those wanton, immoral Heralds!" his mother would say worriedly.

"Little brat got what he deserved. Letting a woman order him around, the shame!" the other Sons would sneer.

Well, Treet didn't care what they thought! The only person whose opinion of him mattered was Karissa. He so wished that he could do something right in her eyes for once; earn the respect that she seemed to give to no one, not even herself.

Sometimes, he thought he almost had it. Even through the little shielding he had fumbled into place on directions from his book, he sometimes felt that she was looking at him with sincere liking and friendship. Then, of course, the walls came back down with a snap, generally causing Treet a great deal of unnecessary pain, as though his finger had been trapped underneath.

He was going to talk to her about that. He really was. Treet groaned, every blade of grass on the path to the Waystation seeming to press ridges into his feet. He just wasn't going to do it before he had had some rest.

By the time Karissa staggered into the Waystation, nerves and body rubbed raw, she was shocked to see Treet, eyes barely held open, sitting beside the fireplace and using a wooden spoon to stir a large pot of porridge.

"Huh?" She said, not very intelligently.

Treet grinned. "Dinner. You pick up some interesting skills among the Holderkin. I can't cook anything fancy, of course, and meals were left to the Wives to cook, but I can do simple camp food." Exhausted past endurance by this long sentence, Treet fell silent.

Karissa tentatively grinned back at him. "Let's eat."

The warm porridge tasted unbelievable, warming them from head to toe and filling them up after their long ride and longer day.

Good though it was, however, eating it took the last of their strength. Together, they rinsed the dishes they had used in a bucket of water Karissa had brought in earlier.

Karissa made up the bed box again, and pointedly glared at Treet as he moved to set up a bed on the floor.

Relenting, Treet crawled under the covers next to Karissa and was asleep before his entire body hit the bed.

Karissa, for once in her life, slept dreamlessly, a fact for which she was deeply grateful. For one of the only times in her adult life, she awoke the next morning feeling refreshed, energized and eager to get out of bed.

Treet did not dream either, although he slept more restlessly that Karissa had. His imagery of the Holderkin he had left behind must have affected him more than he had thought, because all night long he could hear their voices inside his mind, taunting him and insulting.

When he awoke, he tried his best to put it behind him, telling himself that they had probably forgotten his existence by now, and so he would do well to forget theirs. He tried to distract himself by thinking about what he would say to Karissa.

As they ate breakfast, he noted that she looked happier than usual, and the dark circles that were usually prominent around her eyes had faded somewhat, leaving her looking less haunted than Treet had ever seen her.

He judged this a good sign for the success of his conversation. Treet did not want to anger Karissa, but he was afraid that he might have to. Her being in a good mood could only mean that her temper was slightly smoothed, and Treet hoped to take advantage of that state.

Treet took a deep breath, prayed that he wouldn't be eaten, swallowed the last morsels of porridge from his bowl and opened his mouth to speak.

"Herald? We need to talk." He mumbled as fast as he could, staring steadfastly at his bowl.

"What did you say?" Karissa asked, genuinely puzzled, having missed most of the sentance.

:He wants to talk to you. Now stop looking like you're about to eat him and listen for a change.:

_:Thank you for your input, smart one.:_

_:Anytime, dear.:_

"I need to talk to you." Treet repeated, using up the dregs of his courage.

"Well I'm here, aren't I? Talk."

Treet shuddered. This was not going the way he had hoped it would. Karissa's manner was so indifferent and icy that he could feel the chill in his bones.

He looked up, meeting Karissa's icy blue eyes with his own warm ones. "I need to know what you think of me. How do you feel about me, really?"

He could tell instantly that he had made some sort of blunder in his word choice, since a non-telepathic raccoon a hundred miles away from the Waystation could have felt the recoil that emanated from Karissa.

_:He WHAT? He doesn't mean it the way I think he does, does he?:_ She asked Veria confusedly.

_:Bright Havens! You arrogant, hedonistic, filthy minded Herald! What am I going to do with you, Kari? Ignoring the fact that you are about twice his age and that he hasn't even known you for that long, you just rescued him from a life where expression of emotions is not exactly prized. Do you really think he is likely to come out and ask you if you are in love with him not half a moon after you brought him away from there? Last I checked, dearling, you had a brain. I know you aren't that great with people, but even a half brained lack wit could figure out that he isn't likely to be asking you THAT question.:_ Veria said, half in amusement, half in anger.

_:Oh. So he really means 'What do you think of me?' in a friendly way? Well, what should I say to him?:_

_:The truth. The real truth, not the one you invent to prevent yourself from coming out of that hard shell of yours.:_

_:Are you sure?:_

_:Have I ever steered you wrong before, Chosen?:_

_:Well, there was that time with the Dean and that stack of plates.:_

_:Just DO it before I get in there and kick you.:_

_:Alright, alright. Promise it'll be ok?:_

_:I promise, Chosen.:_ Veria said, completely sincere for the first time that morning.

"Umm. Well, Treet, I think you're really umm. This is hard. I don't exactly tell people things. I stay away from them, you know? But, Veria says I should tell you. Look at me trying. I'm going to try. I think that you're a really great kid. You know, nice, sweet, all that. I really do like you, even if you can't always tell."

_:Veria! I didn't do so well on the telling thing.:_ Karissa wailed.

_:Relax, Chosen, you did fine.:_ Veria assured her.

Treet's face lit up like a little's at Midwinter. "Really?"

"Really, Treet." Karissa reassured him.

Treet took another deep breath. "Do you think we could ever be friends?"

"I don't usually like emotional entanglements. Or people." Karissa said automatically, snapping down the shields that she had learned to draw around her whenever someone got too close.

She watched Treet's face fall, and instantly felt bad. Veria's mental kick made her feel worse.

"But for you, I can make an exception. You're better than most people." Karissa said hurriedly.

_:Nice save, Chosen.:_

_:Why, thank you.:_

Treet was astonished. It had been easier than he had feared it would be, although by the blank looks Karissa had occasionally donned during the conversation, he suspected that Veria had had a hand in the persuasion. Well, he would take what he could get.

"For true? Friends?" He asked.

"Friends." Karissa said, a little uncertain. With her small talent of MindSpeech, she could feel Treet's mental embrace, and she tentatively returned it. It was nice to have friends.

She didn't think she would be very good at it, and she was afraid that if she made friends again, they would leave her again, but Veria was right. It was time to open the doors of her mind and let the world back inside.


	9. Shocks

Disclaimer: I think you guys know the drill by now. What you recognize isn't mine, everything else is.

Yay! I hit 50 reviews! That's halfway to my goal of 100, which, according to my calculations, I should reach somewhere around chapter 16. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers who have helped me get this far. There's no way I would have continued with this story without your praise, advice and general well wishes. Speaking of reviews, I believe I have a few to respond to –wink-

Fireblade: Thanks! :D

Breezefire: Yeah, I know, nothing much happened. This was mostly exposition and, since we're almost in Haven, I needed to get the Karissa problem sorted out so that I can torture Treet with a whole new set of difficulties.

Vaches: Yeah, actually, it was supposed to be a bit funny. I know them sitting around talking isn't too exciting, so I tried to slip in a bit of comic relief, since there was no action.

Lurks in Shadows: Yes, not reviewing is bad! That's ok, though. Not writing is bad too, and it took me ages to get the last chapter up. This one wasn't too speedy either, come to think of it.

Wizard: Yes, thanks. I had to bend the "show don't tell" rule a little in the interests of exposition. Hope nobody minded too much.

Tenshi: Tsk Tsk, cynical Tenshi. I told you, I'm resolving the Karissa issue. I'm using my special authoress powers to keep them friends, and it will play a part in the later action, I promise.

Ok, I'm afraid this chapter won't be too much action. They'll be riding and talking, mostly, but the next chapter should be as jam-packed with action as any five pages could possibly be, so bear with me.

Horrible writers block. –kicks it- I know the chapters haven't been very fast or all that good, but I'm hoping the next one will be much better, and I sort of like my little dialogues.

Anyway, on with the show and enter a new character, Lirain!

Chapter 9: Shocks

Treet was floating along in a glow of happiness. Even the harsh rubbing of his increasingly many saddle sores and the growling of his stomach from having eaten almost nothing but porridge for nearly a week could not dampen his good mood.

Ever since he had left with Karissa on this journey, he had had his doubts. Even if he did supposedly have some powerful Gift that could help him to find a place in the world, he had never lived outside the Holderkin lands. Gods, he had never even been off of them for more than a night or two at a stretch.

How would he do out there with people who had always lived their lives in a drastically different way than he? The question had haunted him and when his first attempt at social activity had been met with Karissa's habitual stoniness he had despaired of ever fitting into his new world.

Now, though, things were different. Although he was heading into the unknown, he was doing so with a friend beside him and the knowledge that even he could manage to get by in a social situation every once in a while.

Karissa was useful to him in another way as well. Having lived in this Collegium herself for a number of years, she would be able to tell him more about the place he was to spend the rest of his life in.

He hoped they would not be too hard on him. Perhaps, if he was lucky, they would only beat him for his disobedience and not Exile him or refuse to feed him.

He had wanted to press Karissa for more detail about the Collegium when she brought up the subject previously, but he had been too afraid of making her angry. Now that they were friends, however, surely she would want to help him as he had helped her, although his efforts had been slightly less than skillful.

Karissa was staring blankly between Veria's ears, trying to strengthen her shielding. She was not a strong enough Mindspeaker to pick up Treet's thoughts through his own shielding, inexpert as it was. She could feel, however, that he was thinking about something very hard.

She figured that she had better find out what it was or he would continue to disturb her thoughts with his mental mutterings for the rest of the ride. Besides, she honestly didn't want him to worry about the Collegium any more than it deserved.

"So, we're almost in Haven. We'll be there by tonight." Karissa said, leaving the sentence as neutral as she could, waiting for a response of some kind from the silent youngster.

"Yes." Treet said, as bland as she was. Then, as though he feared that he would run out of time to speak or be told to shut up, he crammed his words into one compact ball and hurled them at Karissa as fast as he could.

"Do you suppose they beat Trainees very hard at this Collegium?" He asked, trying not to sound as though he minded too much what the answer was, as though he was brave enough to take whatever came like the man he despaired of ever becoming.

"Beat them? Of course not!" Karissa exclaimed in genuine surprise and shock. "What good would that do, except to teach them more violence? Besides, beating a Healer Trainee, or a full Healer, just isn't smart, if you want to know the truth."

"Why?" Treet asked, puzzled.

"With gifts like that? You'd have to be insane or actively looking to seek the Havens. The Trainee or Healer would explode sooner or later. Truthfully, your family is lucky that you didn't strike at them with your mind. I mean, a person with the Healer's Gift won't hurt anyone if they can help it, but every mind has a breaking point, and you could have made them regret every strike if you had so chosen."

Seeing the stricken look on Treet's face, Karissa regretted her words instantly, trying to smooth them over with the pleasant little introduction speech that most Trainees got about the Collegia at some time or another. The last thing she wanted was for him to fear his own abilities.

"Of course, if you were a Herald Trainee, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you anything until you got to the Collegium, but since Healers generally have fully or partially awakened Gifts by the time they are found, there is no such rule." Karissa said. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Tell me everything!" Treet demanded, eyes wide at the unexpected generosity of her offer.

"Well, the Collegia are on the same grounds as the Palace, where the King lives. There are three Collegia, by the way. Healers, Bardic and Heraldic. You will be training in the Healer's Collegium, which adjoins the House of Healing."

Treet's jaw dropped as he tried to imagine being trained on the same grounds that hosted the home to the King of Valdemar.

"What do you suppose will happen when I get there?" He asked, still nervous.

"I've never supposed anything in my life." She said, glaring at him sternly. "I can tell you what I know, though. When you get there, as I think I may have told you when we met, I will deliver you to the Dean of the Healer's Collegium, who will talk with you for a while and assign you a mentor if he decides that you are worth the training. Don't worry about that, though. The only time they turn away a Trainee is if they would use the knowledge given to them for harm, and it is obvious, knowing you, that you would never do that."

"A mentor? What will he be like?" Treet asked, taking Karissa's promise at face value and concentrating on the other part of her words.

_:It's all right, Chosen, I actually do have some information you can give the boy.: _Veria interjected, stopping Karissa from asking how in the Havens she was supposed to know anything about his future mentor when it had been a year since she had last been in Haven.

_:You know? Already?: _Karissa asked, shocked that Veria had been finding these things out and not sharing the knowledge with her Chosen, and also shocked that such a decision had been made without even meeting the Trainee in question.

_:I took the liberty of informing the Heraldic Dean of our imminent arrival, and he informed the Dean of Healers. Usually they don't know this far ahead of time, but Treet was a special case, once they heard about his upbringing.:_

_:Well, who is he? Who's Treet's mentor going to be? Don't keep me in suspense!:_

Treet stared at Karissa's back; patiently waiting for the conversation she was having with her Companion to end. He could always tell when she was talking to Veria. She always tilted her head slightly to the side, and got this look on her face, like she wasn't quite all there.

_:Actually, Kari, it's not a he.:_ Veria said, sounding amused.

Karissa snorted. Her sense of humor was slightly odd sometimes, but the thought of Treet running around after a girl was funny to her, especially when he was so obviously expecting a male. She doubted if he even knew that students were of both genders in all of the Collegia, and that in fact female students were in the majority in the Healer's Collegium. She would leave that part for the Dean to explain, she thought, even more amused.

_:A girl, then? How old?:_ Karissa asked.

_:Only a year above him in training, actually. Daughter of two Heralds. She's lived in the Heralds Wing all of her life, so she knows everything about the Collegia. Probably more than some of the older Trainees from other areas would, actually.:_

_:Not Lirain?: _ Karissa asked, thinking of the daughter of the only pair of Heralds she knew who had decided to wed and have children._ :I always thought she would be Chosen. She showed the Healers Gift?:_

_:Yes, she did. A strong one, too. Must have been just after we left. She's gotten a tad unconventional since then, though.:_

_:Ah, the joys of adolescence. She'll certainly shake our Treet up a little.: _Karissa said, figuring that the shy, mousy-haired child she remembered had simply become a little more assertive since her admission to the Collegium.

_:More than a little. She seems to have managed to turn her hair green.: _Veria said, a small and uncharacteristic giggle in her Mindvoice.

_:Bright Havens! Why did she do that?: _Karissa exclaimed.

_:Nobody knows. If you ask her, she just tells you she wanted to match her hair to her future robes. Apparently she managed to get hold of some Healer's headache potion that had gone a little bad. You know what those things can do when they go off. It was one of the ones charged with Gift-magic, and the combination of the magic in it and the bad herbs turned her hair bright green when she drank it. Only the hair on her head went green, though, thank the Gods: _Veria added hurriedly, presumably imagining a Trainee with green eyebrows.

_:Lovely. And it didn't occur to them that she would scare our Treet half out of his wits upon their first meeting?: _Karissa asked in a protective tone that had probably never before emerged from her mouth.

_:Well, it probably did, but there's more to it than that. She's a Mindhealer and her Empathy is very strong even for one of them. If she does scare him a bit at first, they figure she should be able to determine what he needs better than anyone else, with a Gift like that. He's actually been assigned to her as a project, a sort of mini-Cause.:_

Karissa snickered. A project? She would enjoy hearing the tales of the two of them that she suspected would be circulating the Collegia before too long. Such an unlikely pairing had probably never been wrought since Sunsinger and Shadowdancer.

Karissa turned back to Treet, aware that he was watching her with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

"Sorry, I just found out a little about your mentor. She's actually female. Her name is Lirain." Karissa said, not sure of how much to tell him. Too little, and he would be in for a severe shock. Too much and he would be so terrified that she would never get him into Haven, even with the help of five Companions, their Heralds and a lead rope, none of which she had handy.

"She's, well, a touch unconventional. Don't let her scare you." Karissa advised.

No matter how much Treet begged, Karissa refused to tell him anything else about the mysterious Lirain. When they finally reached the outskirts of the city of Haven, Karissa turned to him and began to speak again.

"You know, our ride together is almost over. I'll probably end up assigned to the Collegium for a little while, so if you need me, just ask for Herald Karissa. I meant what I said, about us being friends. I'll be here for you if you ever need me." Karissa said a little stiffly, but meaning every word.

Treet just gazed at her, tears pricking his eyes. He knew how much effort it must have taken for her to say that aloud.

"Thank you, Herald. For everything."

"Any time, Treet. Like I said, I'll be here for you."

_:See, that wasn't so bad, was it, love?: _Veria teased, bringing Karissa back into reality before she could start to brood on what she had promised.

_:Yeah, well, don't expect me to do it again any time soon. One tagalong is enough. And I only like him a little bit.:_

Veria let that one pass, although anyone with even a touch of a telepathic Gift could have told the falsehood in Karissa's words.


	10. Haven

Disclaimer: If you think this sounds anything like something that the great Mercedes Lackey would write, I'm afraid you are either delusional or on something. As always, only the characters and writing belong to me.

Reviewers, I thank you for putting up with my sporadic updates and severe lack of action. Well, I promise you, said action is coming very soon. Actually, it's coming now, after I respond to these reviews and turf the writer's block out of my head. Even Karissa's emphatic suggestions haven't budged the thing, but maybe today it will head for the hills at last.

Tenshi: Yes, I have something truly evil planned for Treet and Lirain, and yes, she will scare him right out of his little wits, at first anyway. Yeah, I've always wanted to have long purple hair, but I don't want to have to bleach mine, so no amethyst tresses for me, I'm afraid.

Wizard: Glad you liked it!

Nesuto: New reviewer! -Herald glomps to death- Well, the way I see it, you can actually TELL the lie, the words will go, but it is absolutely obvious to everyone receiving that it's a lie. She can't tell a lie and get away with it, but she can try all she wants.

Badgerwolf: Yes, she should afford a little amusement. I think you guys will like her, though. She has a compassionate streak.

Breezefire: Ugh, **-**thwaps typo- For some reason, my spell check missed that one. And yeah, refer to my above explanation of the MindSpeech thing.

Fireblade: Yes, I can see that that chapter needed a little grammar help. By the time you read this, it should be re-uploaded in better form. What can I say? I was exhausted and I really wanted to get an update out.

Vaches: Yes, there shall be much funniness.

Lurks in Shadows: Don't worry. Poor Treet will manage. The two of them go together quite well, actually, personality wise.

Desert Angel: Yes, there is much entertainment in store for the two of them.

Anyway, here we are. The chapter I'm sure you've all been waiting for with bated breath. They reached Haven. Of course, if I decide to be evil, or just get long-winded about the trek through the city, they might not actually make it to the Collegia until chapter eleven.

Opportune, isn't it, that the exciting chapter is chapter ten. I don't know, it just seemed apt to me. Anyway, I'm sure you all are tired of listening to me ramble, or have already skipped this part and cut to the action, so I'll just say my usual words and be on my way. On with the show!

Chapter 10: Haven

To Treet, who was really a country boy at heart, the path they took to the center of Haven seemed hopelessly convoluted and strange. It was just like a huge maze, or so he thought, dizzy from repeated sharp turns and tiny, dark alleyways barely large enough for Veria to pass through.

When they finally emerged into the center of Haven, the sudden daylight and loud chatter caused Treet to blink hard and shy back, nearly falling out of the saddle.

People were everywhere! Large people, small people, women, men, children, adults, all dressed in bright colors that Treet had never seen in common usage. They swirled about their business, chattering happily, seemingly unaware of their strangeness.

The women showed no especial deference to the men, walking possessively arm in arm with them down the street or thumping them lightly on the shoulder, an action that would have warranted a beating, back in the Hold.

And the smells! It was like the small marketplace Treet had visited, only a thousand times more intense. As the smells of various types of food assailed him, his stomach wrenched his attention away from the splendor of it all to forcibly remind him that he had not eaten since that morning and it had only been porridge, at that.

As though Karissa had heard his thought, or at least his stomach, she turned to him, grinning with a happiness that he had never before seen in her smile.

"We're home. This is my true home, anyway, and before long, it will be yours too. You'll see." She flashed him an encouraging smile.

"Hungry?" She asked, changing the subject before he realized that she was being friendly for a change. Besides, if she was hungry, and she was, Treet was probably famished.

"Oh yes, Herald. Half-starved!" Treet admitted.

Karissa pulled out a belt-pouch and walked over to one of the booths that studded the inner city like stars in the sky.

Treet could see her bargaining fiercely, and she returned holding two skewers adorned with roasted meat and vegetables.

At the sight of the meat, Treet felt sure that he would faint of hunger. When he finally held the warm, steaming food in his hands, he nearly died of pleasure. The first bite was very nearly heaven. It was juicy and good, done to perfection. Before he knew it, the whole thing was gone.

"What did you do, inhale it?" Karissa asked laughingly when she looked over, half finished hers, to see Treet licking the last particles of food from his wooden skewer.

He grinned in reply. "I told you I was hungry. Oh, here." He reached into his own belt pouch for money to pay Karissa for the meal. That was when he realized that he was completely broke. His face fell.

"Herald, I haven't got any money to pay you. Not even a copper."

"Never mind, Treet. Heralds get a stipend, and the Gods know I have nothing and no one else to spend mine on."

Treet reached into his pocket again, having felt a parcel inside and being unable to remember what in Havens it could be. He drew it out and noticed that it was the glue he had bought at the market for his Mother barely a week ago. It seemed like a moon ago, at least, but Treet blessed whatever God had kept it in his pocket throughout his ride.

"Can you make any use of this, Herald? I surely don't need it. It was for my mother, but I owe you, and I don't suppose I'll get much chance to give it to her, now."

Karissa looked at Treet's crestfallen expression as he thought of his mother. Knowing better than to refuse the gift, she smiled at him as kindly as she could.

"Exactly the thing, Treet. A Herald on Circuit never can have enough glue."

Treet's eyes practically glowed with happiness as he felt her sincerity. After all she had done for him, it was a nice feeling to be able to do something for her.

They mounted up again, as they had dismounted to sit on the ground and eat their lunch. As they passed through the city, people stopped their work to stare at them in awe and respect.

Even in Haven, where Heralds were relatively commonplace, many people still regarded them as Gods, or nearly as such.

Treet had wondered why Karissa had bought nothing for Veria to eat, for surely the Companion was as hungry or more so than they were, having been forced to carry them all this way.

As they passed through the main streets, Treet saw why.

Vegetable stand proprietors lobbed carrots and other raw treats towards Karissa with great frequency, which Karissa deftly caught and Veria happily munched on, with a nod of thanks to their former owners.

One stall owner in particular did his best to welcome the Herald and her charge to Haven. After he had chucked over the ubiquitous carrot for Veria, he also tossed over two rosy red apples, one each for Karissa and Treet.

The slippery apple was too hard for Treet's greasy fingers to grasp, even after he had overcome his surprise at being tossed one. He brought up his hand to catch it, but his palm only glanced off of it, deflecting it in Karissa's direction.

Luckily, her combat trained reflexes were sufficient to deal with apple missiles, and she caught it one handed, passing it back to Treet.

By the time his apple had been gnawed away to nothing but the bitter and hard core, which he offered to Veria, they had reached the gates of the Palace grounds.

Now, Treet had thought that he was doing a rather good job at containing his awe at the city of Haven in general and its people in particular, but at the sight of such a magnificent accommodation, Treet couldn't tear his eyes off of it.

Watching him fondly, Karissa remarked, to nobody in particular. _:I'll miss him, you know.:_

_:I know you will. He's been good for you, though. And you'll never forget him, will you?:_

_:I suppose every time I don't wake up at night at least once in a cold sweat, I'll have to remember him.: _Karissa said wryly.

_:You'll see each other again.: _Veria reassured her.

_:I know, but things won't be the same. He'll leave me too, just like everyone else.: _Karissa said, somewhat plaintively.

_:Does anything ever stay the same for long? And you are his hero, his prized Herald. I doubt that he will abandon you. Wait and see. If anything, he'll need you more than ever.: _

Not being able to think of a good reply, Karissa left well-enough alone, allowing Veria the last word. She dismounted and walked over to the gate Guard to register her arrival.

"You are Herald Karissa, no? Coming in from Western Sector Three?" The Guard asked, checking her arrival time against his list.

"Yes, that's me."

"Go on through. Oh, wait, hold on. I have it noted here that you're bringing a Trainee in? Heraldic?" He asked, ignoring the absence of a second Companion.

"No, a Healer. I've got him right here. His name's Tretin, coming in from the Karsite Border. He's Holderkin."

"I see. Do you need me to get him an escort to the Collegium while you report in?"

"That's alright, Guard. I'll take him in myself. My Seniors can wait."

"As you wish, Herald." He said dubiously. "Go on through."

Karissa led Veria through the gate and mounted up, indulging in a wild gallop through Companion's Field, Treet clinging to her dusty Whites as she celebrated her homecoming.

She stopped at the stables to ensure that Veria would be tended to, telling her that she would come back to groom her after dropping Treet off.

_:No hurry, Chosen. He won't want you to leave too soon, I suspect, given, well, given certain things. Come back when you can.:_

_:Alright, I will.: _Karissa said, knowing that the more she pressed for information, the less likely it became that she would get any.

She returned outside to find Treet waiting exactly where she had left him, staring up at the Palace.

"Big, isn't it? Come on, though. You can gawk at it all you want later, I'm going to bring you over to the Dean and get you all set up."

"Yes, Herald." Treet said, slightly subdued at the thought of their parting. The externally gruff Herald had worked her way into Treet's heart. She was like the older sister he wished he had had.


	11. Shields

Disclaimer: I'm running out of original ideas, here. Suffice to say, I don't own, Mercedes Lackey does.

Chapter eleven. This one and the next one are going to be severely interesting, I promise. Probably bad word choice on my part, but you know what I mean. Poor Treet is going to suffer muchly, in a place that supposedly doesn't condone torture, and he has no idea what he's in for, the poor thing.

Anyway, reviews and reviewage.

Badgerwolf: Yes, there was much cuteness. Sort of like the calm before the storm, but still worth reading. I'll update as fast as I can, but this chapter and the next will take some heavy writing, I suspect.

Wizard: Thanks! Glad you liked it!

Tenshi: Yeah, it's a huge pain, but I don't mind character development as much. Yeah, Lirain is fun. You are a lucky thing. I'd have to bleach, since my hair is brown and mud colored.

SilentStream: New reviewer! –glomps- There seems to be a lot of new reviewers lately. This story is better than my other one, I think. Yeah, him meeting Lirain. –Herald has evil thoughts- She'll scare him right out of his wits. Or, at least, under ordinary circumstances she would.

Fireblade: Yes, they shall meet again. Actually, Karissa will play a very important part in later plot events.

Breezefire: I know you do. She's coming. I think there is a good deal of action in this chapter, and the next one should be action-filled as well. I'm trying to take it slowly, since I thought my Brightly Burning story went way too fast.

Crinzin: Yeah, you didn't review for a while. That's ok, though. Glad you like my Karissa. She's a favorite of mine. I'll probably write a short-fic about her sometime.

Thanks again to all my reviewers, especially my regular reviewers who faithfully and constructively criticize my work and give me lovely praise every chapter. You make me really happy.

I'm not so sure about the premise for this chapter, so you're going to need to bear with me here. I sort of need this for the plot, so it's a necessary evil. Just try to have a bit of a willing suspension of disbelief, because I'm not sure how this is going to come out.

Ah well. I'm afraid Treet can't suffer quite yet. I thought I could squish the whole thing into one chapter, but I think you'll have to wait until the next chapter for the actual action. Sorry about that.

I'm actually very happy with this chapter, to tell the truth. I quite like it, and I have a feeling I'll like the next one too. This is a relief, as I wasn't exactly happy with the way some of the chapters before this one came out.

Here's hoping you guys like this one, because I slaved over editing it. Must have been over it nine or ten times, whereas usually I go over my chapters around two times each. Anyway, on with the show!

Chapter 11: Shields

Treet had thought that the winding paths he had taken to the heart of Haven had been disorienting. Then he had seen the Collegia grounds. There were buildings everywhere, or so it seemed. Huge, sprawling buildings and lush green grass seemed to occupy a huge amount of space, and the remainder was packed with people.

Each section looked like every other section to Treet's inexperienced eyes. He wondered how he would ever manage to find his way around such a huge space.

There was one huge building that seemed to stand out from the rest, more majestic than all the others combined, impossible as that seemed. Treet stared at it. It couldn't be what he thought it was, could it?

"You've already spotted the Palace, I see. That one there's the Bardic Collegium. It's the smallest." Karissa remarked, gesturing to a smaller building, half hidden in the shadow of the palace.

"Why is it the smallest?" Treet asked.

"Well, most of the classrooms are in the Heraldic Collegium, that's that one there. That's the one where I was trained. Healer's Collegium has the classrooms especially for Healer Trainees, plus the House of Healing. Most Trainees take at least some lessons with Trainees from other Collegia, and Bardic Trainees take most of them in the other Collegia." Karissa said, her voice slipping into "teaching mode."

"Oh. Where's the Healer's Collegium?" Treet asked, fascinated.

"That's that big one right in front of us. See the House of Healing attached to it?"

Treet looked up at the building that was to be his home for the next few years, or maybe more. He swallowed hard. It was splendid, by his standards. Tall and imposing, its very foundation seemed to exude magnificence.

"Ready to go inside?" Karissa asked, in her most encouraging voice, the voice she had tried and failed to perfect the single time the Collegium had made the mistake of allowing her to teach Orientation. Karissa shuddered. That had been an unalloyed disaster.

"Yes, I guess so." Treet said, not sounding very sure.

"Alright, then. Come on."

Treet looked around as he walked through the building. They saw Healers and Trainees of every description bustling around busily. One area in particular seemed filled with Trainees, which was not so odd, and injured animals, which Treet thought very odd. Wasn't the House of Healing for people?

"This is where they practice techniques on sick animals belonging to people who live nearby." Karissa remarked quietly, as though sensing Treet's confusion. "Only the advanced Trainees get to do that, of course."

Before long, they had stopped outside a large wooden door. It was made of light colored wood, and looked both friendly and threatening to the confused Treet. It almost seemed to change moods each time he blinked.

"Should I knock?" Treet asked, unsure.

"Yes, of course you should knock. What, did you think you could just stand here and somebody would magically open the door for you?" Karissa asked sarcastically, her mind relentlessly pummeling her with fear, nerves set on edge by the smells that would always mean Healers and, thusly, death in her mind.

Treet raised a cautious fist, and tapped on the door as quietly as he could.

"You're never going to get anywhere like that." Karissa said impatiently. She strode up to the door and gave it a sharp rap.

Almost instantly, a woman in the Greens of a full Healer opened the door. She was of medium height with a round face and curly brown hair, cut to shoulder length with bangs that flopped into her eyes. She smiled pleasantly at them.

"Hello. I am Dean Ainna. You must be Tretin." She said, still smiling. "We've been expecting you." She remarked, motioning for Treet to enter the room and close the door behind him.

True to her tactless nature, Karissa stuck her foot in the door and coughed, loudly. There was no way she was just going to leave Treet, especially after Veria's words.

"Oh, Herald. Is there something you need? I assumed that you would want to leave him and return to your duties. I assure you, he is quite safe with us."

Treet looked at Karissa pleadingly. Much as he feared her tempers, she was at least predictable. This woman was totally unknown to him, and, as he knew, smiles could easily hide brutal sadism that would reveal itself the instant Karissa left him alone with the Dean.

"You know, Dean, I don't exactly have duties yet and I'm not expected to report for a Candlemark, at least," she lied. "I think I had better stay here with Treet, just to make sure he settles in alright."

Karissa didn't know why she was so wary of leaving Treet alone. Perhaps she simply wanted to make sure he wouldn't be frightened. What Veria had said, back in the stables, replayed in Karissa's mind over and over. "He won't want you to leave too soon, I suspect, given, well, given certain things."

"Yes, I think I had better stay." Karissa repeated firmly.

"I don't know if that would be wise, Herald. You can see him another time, of course, but our procedures would be better served if you left." The Healer said a hint of steel entering her voice.

"Alright. But I want to talk to you, alone, before I do." Karissa said, realizing that she would get nowhere by having a shouting match with the Dean, as tempting as that option was beginning to look.

The Dean shrugged and led the way out into the hallway, leaving the door ajar.

"I need you to tell me what you are planning on doing to him. My Companion said some things to me that need explaining, and she wouldn't tell me what she meant, so I'm asking you." Karissa said, as blunt as ever.

"Oh, I see. You're truly concerned about Tretin, aren't you?" The Dean's manner softened as she realized that the Herald was not trying to get in the way, but was genuinely worried about her charge.

"I just want to make sure that he is going to be alright. He's Holderkin, Border bred. I'm not sure how well he will react to some of the customs and things here, and I probably know more about him than you do, so I want to know what you are going to do to him." Karissa demanded again, determined to see the newly made Trainee safe before she set one foot away from the Dean's office.

"Well, in that case, Herald, I'd be happy to tell you. It's nothing really. I'll talk to him for a little while; try to get a sense of his personality and what teachers we should place him under, what classes he should start off in. Then, I'll call in our Mindhealer. She'll have him lower his shielding for a moment and take a quick look through his mind, to make sure he is not the sort of person who will do evil with the training we give him. After that, we'll call in his mentor, Lirain, and she'll show him around. That's it." Ainna said reassuringly.

"Lower his shielding? You people are going to rummage around in his mind?" Karissa asked, as close to shrieking as a whisper could come.

"Of course. It's quite simple and our Mindhealer is very skilled. She can avoid anything she isn't supposed to see and still get the measure of young Tretin's character. In a way, it's quite like what your Companions do when they first Choose you. That's why your Dean doesn't have to do it. The Deans of Bardic and Healers, on the other hand, must find out what kind of person they are training by another method. The knowledge we give, once given, cannot be taken back and has the potential to do much harm if the wielder is so inclined. Because of this, we must make sure that they are not so inclined before we decide to train them."

Karissa was horror-struck, in more ways than one. "Treet can't take down his shields! He's been in my mind before and I've felt it. He has had no training in his Gift whatsoever, and he was living in an environment where a Gifted individual with no shielding would go quite mad in a matter of Candlemarks! His shields are purely instinctive, there's no way he will be able to take them down on demand."

"Ah." The Dean said regretfully. "That could be a problem. We can try to teach him how to take them down himself, of course, but if he can't manage, we will have to punch through them. He can't start training with shields like that anyway, they'll have to come down somehow."

"Won't that hurt him?" Karissa whispered.

"That would be an unavoidable side-effect. Of course, there is nothing to worry about, it is a perfectly safe procedure." The Dean tried to reassure Karissa.

"Can't I vouch for him or something?" Karissa asked desperately. "I know that he's a good person."

"I'm sorry, Herald, but this is the procedure we must follow in order to be entirely sure. Now, I'm afraid you must leave so that we can do our duty, unpleasant as it may be."

She turned to go back into the room, but Karissa ran after her. "Can't you Truth Spell him? I'll do it if you want. I'm fully trained to cast both stages."

The Dean turned. "What would we ask him? Questions alone cannot determine his true character. I'm very sorry, Herald, but this is what we must do." She said firmly.

She turned to shut the door and her face briefly softened. "Herald, I assure you, Tretin will be just fine. Do you think we would knowingly endanger our Trainees? Come back and see him after dinner this evening, if you still need to reassure yourself that he is safe. Now, I must insist that you leave."

Ainna could feel the Herald's discomfort and fear, building on her nearly phobic terror of the House of Healing itself. She knew that, cruel as it seemed, the kindest thing to do would be to get Karissa out of the way before they had one more patient on their hands.

Karissa stared blankly at the closed door for a minute.

_:Veria?: _She called, wordlessly seeking reassurance and support.

_:Oh, Chosen, you know they only do what they must.: _Veria said soothingly, sensing the tears that Karissa was valiantly attempting not to shed.****

_:But he's so very shy and scared and foreign. What a horrible start to his time as a Trainee. Can't they see that he needs me? How can I leave him all alone in there? Why, I have half a mind to bang on that door right now and make them let me in!: _Karissa said, drowning her fear in indignation.

_:And what would you do if you could get in there?: _Veria asked calmly.

_:I would. I don't know. I would do something.: _Karissa said.

_:What you would do, Chosen, is get in the way, disturb all of the Healers with the emotions flooding out of your mind and probably end up making the experience even worse for poor Treet. Besides, you know you have a bad reaction when you're in the House of Healing for too long. You'd probably pass out and end up causing more trouble for the Healers. Now, come out to the stable and we can have a nice ride through the woods. Then you can go report in and, after dinner, like the nice Healer said, you can go and see Treet.:_

_:That was NOT a 'nice Healer'.: _Karissa remarked in a tearful grumble. _:I suppose you have a point though. Hang on, I'll be right there.:_

Karissa wandered back through the halls of the Collegium. She was almost at the door when she realized what she was doing. Abandoning Treet, walking away from him. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. Karissa was shocked with herself. She almost never cried, but she couldn't stop her mindless sobbing.

It was the powerlessness of it, Karissa thought to herself. Once again, someone as dear to her as family was in danger, in pain, and Karissa could do nothing to help.

_:I would go through it for him, Veria. I would take the pain on myself, if it would spare him any at all, but I can't. I'm helpless again.:_ Karissa wailed.

She sank down on one of the benches helpfully provided for families of patients or simply exhausted Healers. _:I don't know if I feel like a ride right now, Veria. I'm so tired.: _She said plaintively.

_:All right, Chosen. Why don't you stay there for a bit. I'll wake you up when you absolutely have to get inside and report.: _Veria said, sensing how near her Chosen was to complete collapse.

Karissa closed her eyes, still wearing her grimy Whites, tears leaving tracks in the dust that seemed to have become a permanent part of her face.

That was how Lirain found her, a quarter Candlemark later, tossing and turning, still weeping in her sleep, as though crying out all of the helplessness and despair she had ever felt.

'The pain is so thick I could almost cut it with a knife.' Lirain had thought to herself wryly as she followed her inner prompting to a bench almost at the exit of the Healer's Collegium.

Her surprise was great, when, peering through the strands of green hair that had fallen over her eyes, she saw the source of the cloud. It was a muddy, dusty, grubby Herald, curled up in a half-asleep ball of misery and clutching a small pot of glue to her chest as though her life depended on it. Tears were still streaming down her face, dampening her blonde hair and reddening her nose and fair skin to a scarlet shade.

Lirain recognized the Herald dimly as an acquaintance of her parents. She had no idea, however, what could have caused the Herald to become so distraught. She sat down gently on the floor beside the bench, her back to Karissa so as not to make her feel trapped. She laughed internally to herself at how much she had learned and gently touched the sleeping Herald on the arm.

"Herald?" She asked, imbuing the word with all of her Empathic power, her willingness to help and her sympathy.

Karissa opened her reddened eyes, confused for a moment as to who was beside her. Her face felt hot and swollen, her nose sore and leaking. It took her a moment to recognize the emerald-haired Trainee sitting beside her.

"Lirain?" She croaked. "Well met."

"You don't look well at all. Care to talk about it?" Lirain asked, extending a cautious mental probe in Karissa's direction. As she had suspected, someone had done a hasty Healing of some of the Herald's emotional hurts, but she was still a wreck inside, her outward calm only a thin veneer over her chaotic inner self.

Lirain immediately began to soothe Karissa with her mind, calming her and enabling her to speak.

"How would I be alright? Your Dean is going to hurt one of my friends. Someone who is my responsibility, and there's nothing I can do to help."

Lirain was puzzled. Dean Ainna could be a trifle cold sometimes, but she would not hurt anyone. In fact, she was sworn by oath not to.

"What happened?" Lirain asked, still soothing Karissa with her Gift.

"I was bringing Treet, Tretin, the new Trainee, to get all checked in and she said she would make him take down his shields so she could go into his mind and see if he was alright but his shields are only instinctive and he can't get them down so she said she would just get a Mindhealer to take them down and I know how that works and I wanted to stay with him so he wouldn't be alone but she made me leave and I don't know what's going to happen to him and I can't help him at all!" Karissa's voice rose steadily through her outburst until the last few words, where it cracked and sank to an agonized whisper. She stared miserably at Lirain.

Lirain, now fully understanding the situation, was trying frantically to think of something, anything that would comfort the Herald.

She remembered her own admission to the Collegium. Of course, she had been able to take down her shields herself, having had some rudimentary training from her parents, but the sense of violation from having someone else uninvited in her mind had made her feel sick for days following the experience. She could only imagine how horrible it would be to suffer that after having your shields ripped down.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, the Mindhealer doing it will be my mentor. She's very experienced and if she can spare your Treet any pain at all, she will." Lirain reassured Karissa, knowing that her mentor was currently the only full Mindhealer stationed in Haven.

"Will you be there?" Karissa asked, looking pleadingly up at the Trainee as though Lirain were ten years her senior and a full Healer besides.

"Well, I'm to be his guide through his first moon at the Collegium, although I'm not sure if they'll want me there." Lirain said doubtfully, unsure if she wanted to risk the Dean's wrath.

Then, Lirain turned around to look into Karissa's haunted face. What she saw there caused her to make a decision.

"They may not let you in, Herald, but they'll let me in. My mentor should pass through that hallway there on her way up to the Dean's office any minute now. If I'm with her, they will allow me to stay." Lirain said decisively.

"You'll stay with him, then?" Karissa asked, a glint of hope in her eyes at last.

"I will. Whatever happens, he will not be alone." Lirain said, getting up. "I must go now, to get in place and catch my mentor before it is too late. Will you be alright, Herald?"

"As well as I can be." Karissa assured her.

Lirain nodded. She would have liked to have been able to spend more time making sure the Herald was really calm again, but she knew that it was more important to get to Tretin, for the Herald would never forgive her if she was too late.

As she stood up to leave, Karissa called after her in a weak but firm voice. "Lirain? Thank you for doing this. I really do appreciate it."

Lirain turned, smiling her most compassionate Healer's smile. "I know you do."

With a last Empathic touch, Lirain disentangled her mind from that of the Herald, walking as fast as she could towards the place where she knew she would meet her mentor.

Karissa watched Lirain until her figure receded into a green blur in the distance. She stood, shoving herself off of the hard bench, and began walking towards the Herald's Collegium.

She would have to report, but after that maybe she would go out for that ride with Veria. Perhaps that would calm her nerves a little. They certainly needed it.

Karissa sighed to herself. Being in the House of Healing always left her slightly overwrought emotionally. For Treet, she would do it, but she would probably be in a state all night.__


	12. Interview

Disclaimer:  If any of you still think I'm Mercedes Lackey, I disclaim all responsibility for where you're headed in a few years.

Chapter twelve.  There is a slight overlap in time between the last chapter and this one, but it's in a different place, so you won't be bored.  Poor, long-suffering Treet is going to, well, suffer.

I can't exactly say any thankful words about the number of reviews, as I'm writing this before I've even posted chapter eleven, but I'm sure there will be many, right?  -Does a Fireblade and glares at readers- 

Tenshi: Yes, they finally got there.  I was beginning to wonder too, honestly.  Stuff just kept happening to them.  Lirain is exceedingly cool, I agree.

Breezefire: That chapter is actually a favorite of mine so far.  I'm glad you liked it, I wasn't sure if I timed all of that properly.  Also very glad you didn't find any errors as I spent an incredible amount of time proofreading.

Badgerwolf:  She's not so bad, really.  She's a Healer, after all.  She's just a little odd sometimes.

Crinzin:  Thanks.  Treet will be alright in the end.  Of course, this chapter will involve much evilness to poor abused Treet.

Fireblade:  Thanks!  I hope you like this one.  By the way, could you tell me, by any chance, where I could get the lyrics to Sun and Shadow, if they have been written.  Not Meetings, the long one.  I noticed you have a fic about the pair up and I really need the lyrics to the long one, so I thought I'd ask.

Wizard:  Well, it gets worse before it gets better.

Lurks in Shadows:  She's not so bad, really.  She just doesn't like it when people get in her way.

SilentStream: Yeah, I was thinking the same thing myself, actually.  Maybe while I'm away, I'll do some one-shots on Karissa or something.  Bruise it?  What do you mean?  Sorry, I'm not too good with FanFiction terms –grins- Until last month, I didn't know what a Mary Sue was.

Violet Rush:  Yay!  New reviewer!  Yeah, I try to edit well, if only because I hate reading badly edited work.  It just spoils it, no matter how good the writing is.  Thanks!  I'm glad you like my storyline and you're right.  Healers ARE badly underrepresented.

Anyway, just to let you guys know, after these next couple of chapters go up, you probably won't get another update for a month and a bit.  You'll get one more chapter after this one, maybe two and then the updates will either stop or get really, really slow.

I'm going to go and visit the other half of my family for three weeks, and then I have to go on a "vacation" with the first half of my family, which means basically no computer time, and all my files are here anyway, so that means no updates, but maybe a one-shot or two if the urge hits me.

Ok, enough of me ranting about lack of summer computer time.  Just enjoy what you get, because I'm warning you, we are entering few and far between update zone.  I'll try my best, but no promises.

Don't kill this chapter, please.  It's my baby, my most over planned and over edited chapter yet.  Flames will probably be cried over.

Anyway, on with the show and making Treet suffer!

Chapter 12: Interview

Treet looked around him at the office he had been left alone in.  Herald Karissa had coughed meaningfully at the Dean and given her what he called the Herald Karissa Death Glare.

They had whispered for a while, then gone out into the corridor to talk, leaving Treet alone in the Dean's office.

Treet's impression of the aforementioned office pretty much matched his impression of the door that led into it.

The office was certainly friendly looking, with large plush chairs arranged around the walls and a well-polished wooden floor.  Even the desk looked comfortingly ordinary.  It was piled high with huge stacks of papers and assorted books. 

Despite the color scheme of cool green, the room really appeared quite warm.  Treet almost liked it.  Almost.

On the other hand, in front of the desk was a hard looking wooden chair that Treet felt quite sure he was supposed to sit in.  He edged towards it, flinching as he heard Karissa shriek from outside.  He couldn't quite make out the words, but she was angry and upset about something.

He looked around furtively and ran the last few steps to the chair.  He then sat in it, staring down at his sturdy shoes and trying not to disturb anything.

Only a few minutes later the Dean spoke, snapping him out of his reverie.  He was sure she had been speaking for a few moments, but he only caught the tail end as she said compassionately but firmly, presumably to Herald Karissa, "Now, I must insist that you leave."

Karissa was leaving him?  He had come to rely on her presence.  Feeling her stalwart support beside him had given him no end of comfort on the long journey to Haven.  He had thought that she would always be there, although he knew that that had been a ridiculous thought. 

Even when they had spoken about parting, it hadn't seemed quite real to Treet.  Now it seemed all too real.  She was gone.  He could feel her fuming all the way down the corridor, but soon her mental signature faded to only a small point of distress some distance away.

Treet had no time to brood on that for long, though.  A moment later, Dean Ainna closed the door firmly, shaking her head. 

She turned to see Treet already sitting down, and she smiled at him again.  "Good, I see you're all settled in." 

She sat down at the desk across from Treet and folded her hands in her lap.  "So, why don't you tell me about yourself?"  She asked in a way that made it seem more a command than a suggestion.

"What should I say?"  Treet asked uncertainly.  Nobody who asked that question ever wanted the truth, only some distorted facet of it that they could interpret in a way that suited their purposes.

"Let's start with your name."  Ainna said patiently.

"Tretin Ninsson, but everyone calls me Treet."  Treet recited in a slight monotone.

"I see.  You are Holderkin, I have been told?"

"Yes.  I was born and raised in Ninsholding."  He couldn't quite bring himself to say it proudly.

"Yes?  And what was your life like there?"  Ainna asked.

To Treet's surprise, she actually sounded vaguely interested.  Nobody had ever been interested in him before.  He decided to test her interest in him by telling the truth.  If she thought he was one of the perfect Holderkin sons his Father had expected him to be, she would soon find herself mistaken.

"They didn't like me very much.  They liked to trip me and shove me around.  They tried to 'make a man of me,' and this Gift thing of mine didn't help."  Treet said honestly.

"Ah yes, your Gift.  Tell me about that, Tretin."  Ainna said, switching topics like a flash.

"It wasn't always there.  I mean, I've always been different.  I guess you could say I've been more sensitive than the other males my age.  They said I should have been born a girl.  Then, in the last few years, strange things started to happen.  I could feel other people's emotions, sort of like color clouds around them.  Even more strongly, I could feel pain and sickness.  I knew when people were hurt before anyone else in the Holding."

"Yes, that sounds like the Healer's Gift.  How old are you?"

"I'll be fifteen years old next moon."

"So this started when you were about twelve or thirteen years?"

"Almost exactly."  Treet said, unsure of where she was going with this.

The Dean turned briefly and made a short motion with something enclosed in her hand.  When she turned back to Treet, she could see that he had stood up in recoil and that he looked shocked.  She displayed her hand.  A short but deep cut in the center of her palm oozed blood.

"That hurt!"  Treet said reproachfully.

"Yes, it did.  Can you put it right?"  Ainna said, not wanting to give him any more direction than she needed to.  In her years as Dean, there had been a couple of Trainees who had known instinctively how to Heal, and it was always better to give them the chance before giving any sort of instruction.

"What do I do?"  Treet asked.  He had tried healing emotions before, but never wounds.

"Can you still feel the pain?"  The Dean asked patiently, seeing that she would have to be a bit more explicit with Treet.

"Yes."

"Now, use it like a beacon to find the cut and try to send your mind into it."  The Dean said in a soft voice.  "Feel where the cut is, where the skin has parted.  Now, try to bring it back together."

Treet fumbled around with his mind a little, trying to focus in on the Dean's palm.  Nerves made him awkward as he tried to sink his mind into the cut.  After two or three tries, he located it.  Remembering what he had done with Karissa, he sent his energy streaming into the cut, forcing the skin together and giving it the strength to accelerate the natural healing process.

Treet snapped back to awareness.  He swayed on his feet and dropped back into the chair.  When he looked up, he could see the Dean grinning at him with a pleased expression on her face.

"Yes, Tretin, without a doubt, you have the Gift of Healing."  She displayed her hand to him, palm up.  Only a slight pink streak showed that there had once been a gash there.

"Now, you're almost done, I promise.  We just have a couple more things to do before I introduce you to your mentor and let her show you around the Collegium."  The Dean said.  "We're just waiting for someone else to show up."

She began to quiz him on various topics, maths, writing, reading and other things.  He could barely keep up, being forced to remember things he hadn't even known he still knew.  By the time she professed herself done, Treet was slightly dazed, but pretty sure that he had done alright.

Only a few moments later, there came a knock on the door.  It was not as gentle as Treet's first knock and not as emphatic as Karissa's.  In fact, it was somewhere in between.

Ainna stood up to get the door, casting a look at Treet that was almost apologetic.

The door opened to reveal two people, both in the Greens of a Healer.  The one wearing full Greens was a tall, auburn-haired woman who looked exceedingly competent.  She smiled reassuringly at Treet.  "I'm Healer Rith.  Mindhealer, to be exact.  I'm just going to be having a little look at you.  This is my Trainee."  She motioned to the emerald-haired girl wearing the paler Greens of a Healer Trainee.

The girl walked over to Treet.  "I'm to be your mentor," she said.  "My name's Lirain."

Treet could barely take his eyes off of her hair.  He remembered what Karissa had said about her being slightly unconventional.  Slightly wasn't exactly the word Treet would have used to describe anything about Lirain.

When Treet finally looked down and met Lirain's slate gray eyes, he felt a shock travel through him like an electric charge.  He felt as though he was falling into the depths of her eyes, and he never wanted to leave.

When he finally registered her face, he could see that she too was captivated.  For the first time in her life, she was at a loss for words.

A few moments later, when Rith saw that the two were not going to separate unless she reminded them to, she coughed gently.

Called back to the present, Lirain leaned over to him and said "I also bear greetings from a certain Herald I think you may know."

"Karissa?  She left ages ago."  Treet said mournfully.  "I felt her leave."

"Well, yes, but she sent me to keep you company while Healer Rith checks you over.  It would seem that our oh-so-friendly Dean here kicked her out.  She didn't want you to be alone, was quite adamant about it, in fact, so she sent me in her place."  Lirain said lightly.

Lirain sat down in the corner of the room, leaning against one of the plush armchairs and wearing an expression that said that it would not be a good idea to try to force her to move.

With a despairing sigh at the audacity of her pupil, Healer Rith moved over to stand beside Treet, crouching so that she was at eye level with him. "Why don't you sit somewhere more comfortable?"  She suggested gently.  "Like in one of those nice armchairs.  That's what they're for, after all."

Instinctively, Treet looked to Lirain for guidance.  She was obviously much better acquainted with the customs of this place than Treet was.  She nodded at him encouragingly, so he stood up and sat down in the armchair that Lirain was leaning against.  It felt natural and infinitely comforting to be near her.

The Dean had backed away from the three of them and was sitting in her own chair, behind her desk.  She was not a Mindhealer, and, despite her encouraging words to Karissa, she knew when it was better to let the professionals take over.

Healer Rith also stood up and settled herself in an armchair next to Treet's, arranging her robes elegantly around her.  She lent towards Treet, speaking softly and reassuringly while projecting a calming aura with her mind.

"You know, the Collegium has got to be very careful about who they accept for training nowadays.  I mean, if we taught the wrong person, who knows what kind of horrible things would happen."  She said conversationally.

That made sense to Treet.  He wouldn't want his brother Keltav, for instance, knowing all about how he was put together and how best to take him apart.

"I can see that," he said cautiously.

"So, you see, whenever a Trainee comes into the Collegium we have the most senior Mindhealer around scan them.  Just quickly, of course.  You'd hardly even notice it, really.  Then, once we're sure that the Trainee in question is a decent person, we officially admit them to the Collegium."

"So, you want to do that to me?"  Treet asked, dreading the answer.

Rith met Treet's frightened green eyes with her unruffled brown ones, projecting a calming aura at him as she spoke.  "Yes, that's what I'm here to do.  I'm just going to ask you to take down your shields.  I'll take a quick peek in your mind, for impressions, you understand, I will avoid specific memories as much as I can, and then you can put everything back up again and you'll be free to leave."

The 'free to leave' part sounded good, but Treet wasn't so sure about the rest.  "Take my shields down?"  He asked.

"I know it's hard."  Rith said compassionately.  This job was a regular duty of hers, being that she was the only full Mindhealer stationed at the Collegium.

"But, I don't know how to take my shields down." Treet protested.

"You don't know how?"  Rith asked calmly, getting worried but refusing to show it.  "That's fine.  I'll show you how to do it."

"Well, I guess we could try."  Treet asked nervously.

"Alright, Tretin.  I'm going to try to link with you and show you how to get your shields down."  Rith closed her eyes and extended a cautious mental probe in Treet's direction.  All she could find was his shielding, smooth and solid, without a single crevice for her to anchor to.  He had obviously been unconsciously augmenting his shields for some time.  They were faulty and badly built, but in times of stress, such as now, they held firm.  Rith could break through them if she had to, of course, but that was a last resort.  She had no desire to inflict that sort of pain on anyone.

After several failed attempts, however, Rith had to admit that she couldn't link with Treet.  She was about to give up when Lirain said, more softly than she had ever spoken in her life, "Rith, let me try.  There's sympathy between us already, and I may be able to link with him better than you can."

"Alright, Lirain."  Rith reluctantly agreed.  Ordinarily, she wouldn't have dreamed of allowing a Trainee to participate in such a delicate procedure, but she was desperate and she, also, could feel the sympathy growing between the boy and her Trainee.

Lirain rested her elbows on the arm of the chair and met Treet's eyes.  Slowly, projecting calm, she tried to form a mental link, however tenuous, with Treet.  A few moments later, her efforts met with success. 

"I've got it."  She said quietly to Rith, not turning away from Treet.

"Excellent job!"  Rith praised, also quietly.  "Try to teach him to lower his shields.  You know how it's done."

Lirain tried as hard as she could.  She went into Treet's mind, mentally hand in hand with him.  She tried to show him how to take back the energy he had put out into his shielding, but it was to no avail.

Nearly a half Candlemark later, even Lirain had to admit defeat.

She shook her head sadly at Rith.  "He can't do it, Rith, his shields were built under great stress and fear, unconsciously as well.  There's no way he can take them down.  They are not even a part of his conscious mind, from what I can sense."

Rith winced internally, but refused to let any of her misgivings show on her face, although she was already tense at the thought of the ordeal ahead.  "Tretin, I'm going to have to go into your mind myself and take down your shielding myself."

Her efforts to hide the implications of that were to no avail.  Treet also had the Gift of Empathy, and he could feel that she was not telling him everything.

"Is this going to be hard for you to do?"  Treet asked hesitantly.

"Not hard for me to do, exactly, more hard for you to endure.  I can do it, but it will probably be painful.  Very painful, I'm afraid."  Rith said, knowing that Treet would sense it if she lied to him outright.  She took a deep breath, knowing what she had to do.

She met Treet's eyes again and cupped both of her hands over his cold, clammy ones.  "I'm not going to do anything yet, I promise.  I'm just going to take another quick look at your shielding.  You'll barely feel a thing, I promise."

Like a swimmer entering icy water, Rith slowly entered Treet's mind, but recoiled almost immediately at what she sensed there, physically drawing back at the depth of his terror.

"I can't do this with him this frightened," she said.  "Or, rather, I could, but it would probably cause lasting mental damage if I tried to plough through his shielding the way he is right now."

Treet was nearly in shock.  Physical pain, he could tolerate, had tolerated all of his life, but his mind was his retreat, the one place where the pain could not pass.  To have that security ripped away from him was more than he could bear. 

The feeling of the Healer touching his mind uninvited in such a personal way, however gently, had been the catalyst that had released all of his repressed terror.  The thought that there was worse to come filled Treet with a feeling like shards of ice slashing into him from his head to his toes, leaving him cold but in no way unfeeling.

As though from very far away he heard Lirain say "Let me try to calm him down.  I had better luck with him before, maybe I can make this easier on him."

Treet didn't think that anything could make him feel better, but he very much wanted Lirain to comfort him.

Lirain moved from her spot beside Treet's chair until she was kneeling on the floor in front of Treet.  She took his trembling hands in her own, projecting her best calming aura at him to soothe his terror.

"What's the matter, hmm?"  She asked him.  "Talk to me, Treet."

"I'm frightened."  He said shakily.  He had never admitted such a thing before in his life, but with Lirain, it seemed natural.

"I know you are.  I would be too.  In fact, I was."  Lirain said.

"You, frightened?  Never."  Treet said, unable to envision such a scenario.

"I was terrified.  I could take my own shields down, of course, but I was terrified all the same.  I believe you could have heard my teeth chattering all the way in Rethwellan."  Lirain admitted ruefully.

"Was it as bad as you thought?"

"Yes.  Every moment of it.  Of course, the worst part was that I was all alone.  All alone at the mercy of a complete stranger.  You won't be alone.  I'll be here."  Lirain assured him.

Somehow, this was exactly what Treet wanted to hear.  If he had to submit to a probing by someone he had never met, he would rather do it with Lirain beside him, even if he had only met her a quarter Candlemark ago.

"You'll stay here?"  Treet asked.

Lirain had a moment's sense of déjà vu.  She gave the same answer she had given the last time.  "Yes, I'll be right here with you."

"Alright."  Treet said, face pale as snow and hands still colder than ice, despite Lirain's warming touch.

Lirain nodded slightly to her teacher.  Rith bent forward as imperceptibly as she could, so as not to alarm Treet.

"Alright, Tretin.  Take a deep breath.  Don't stop breathing on me, now.  I promise, it'll all be over before you know it.  Breathe in."  She closed her eyes, bending forwards still more.

To Treet's eternal shame, a tear trickled down his face.  First one, then another.  He instantly did what would have been expected of him at the Hold.  He clamped down on his tears instantly and firmly, swallowing them down.

Lirain could see that he was getting himself into a state again, and she knew that the more times they had to stop, the worse it would be.  She strengthened her calming aura still more, meshing it with the one Rith had in place already.  She gently chafed Treet's hands in her own.

"It's alright to cry, you know.  I did.  All through the whole thing, all the way home and for nearly a Candlemark afterwards.  Rith was out on an assignment at the time and the other Mindhealer we had was very young.  She was so upset that she nearly cried herself, after it was done.  If nobody thought the less of me for that, they shan't begrudge you a few tears."  Lirain assured him, not positive that he would hear her words, but knowing he would catch the meaning.

The reassurance in Lirain's voice sent Treet completely over the edge, and tears of terror and helplessness cascaded down his cheeks in floods.  Unlike anyone else he had ever met, Lirain offered no reproach or chastisement, she only whispered words of comfort and clasped his hands tightly.

Rith steeled herself for the task ahead.  In her usual habit, she murmured things like "very good" and "you're doing fine" at appropriate intervals, but it was an unconscious response.  Her whole being was concentrated on doing what she had to do.

She formed her Gift into a wedge shaped mass of power.  Where she would usually wield it with great precision and care, the object this time was to get this over with as fast as she could.  She found the weakest point in Treet's admittedly sturdy shields and rammed it with power. 

After a moment of elasticity, the shields shattered like broken glass, falling in broken pieces through Treet's pain-wracked mind.

Treet was about as tense as he had ever been, every nerve on fire with anticipation, waiting for pain.  When it came, he nearly passed out with its intensity.  It felt as though every portion of his mind was shattering under an assault too heavy to bear.

Unconsciously, he squeezed Lirain's hands, holding onto them as though for dear life.  The tears raining down his face dampened her hair, but she didn't notice.

She soothed him as well as she could, but they were in rapport and she felt his pain almost as much as he did.  Their tears mingled as they supported each other.

Rith was wracked with pity and her awareness of Treet's pain.  With no shielding to speak of left, he was wide open, projecting everything he felt into her receptive mind. 

No matter how many times she did this job, she never grew to be able to tolerate it any better.  With as gentle a mental hand as she could manage, she riffled through Treet's mind.  True to her word, she avoided specific memories as much as she could, but she gained a sense of the kind of person he was.

Treet reeled again from this new assault.  He felt as though everything he was, his deepest secrets and flaws had been hung out in the open air for everyone to see and remark on.  He felt violated, sullied by the intimate touch.

His breathing was so shallow as to be barely noticeable, and every portion of his body was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

Lirain, too, was feeling the effects.  It was as bad as her own admission to the Collegium in some ways, and far worse in others.

Rith disentangled herself from Treet's mind as gently as she could, leaning back in her chair with fatigue.

The Dean also lay back in her chair, struggling to bring herself back to reality.  Her own shields were very strong, but the fear and pain had threatened to overwhelm her.  With all of the energy she could muster, she smiled at Treet.  "Bravely done, youngling.  Bravely done indeed."

Rith smiled as well.  "Yes, it certainly was.  You should be very proud of yourselves, both of you."

Treet barely registered the praise.  He smiled vacantly and tried to stand, eyes still watering with the pain.  He took a few steps and the world promptly spun around him and then proceeded to go black.

Lirain uttered a small cry as he collapsed, but she was too spent to move or go to him.

"It's only shock," Rith said calmly.  "It's probably best that he work through the experience this way.  We'll put him to bed and when he wakes up, someone can teach him the correct way to shield so that we never have to go through that again."

With a strength that few would have suspected her of having, Rith lifted Treet up and began to move towards the door.  "I'll put him in one of our empty rooms in the House of Healing.  Lirain, you had better go to your own bed.  No more lessons for you for the rest of the day."  Rith declared.

"I'm not leaving him."  Lirain said in a tired but firm voice.  "He needs me.  I remember the nightmares I woke up with the first few nights after I was admitted to the Collegium.  Bright Havens, I can only imagine what he'll wake up with.  I can comfort him better than anyone else, so I'm staying with him."

Dean Ainna made a noise as if to protest, but Rith knew better.  "Certainly you may stay with him, Lirain.  I shall set up a cot for you in his room."

The three of them left the Dean to enter Treet in the Collegium Rolls and went off to find a bed for Treet and Lirain.

The cot, of course, was unnecessary.  Not a quarter of a Candlemark after Rith left, she came back to check on them and found Lirain curled up against Treet, head pillowed on his shoulder.

Rith smiled and left them.  They both deserved any comfort they could get, however it happened to come to them.


	13. Waking

Disclaimer: No, I don't own. I have no originality left to say anything more, well, original, so live with it.

Once again, I'm writing this chapter before chapter 11 has even been posted. I thought I would try to stockpile a whole bunch of chapters and upload them before I leave, but not add them to the story. Then, in whatever file-less Internet time I may get while I'm away, they will be all ready to add, pending the addition of review responses. This may or may not work, of course.

Anyway, I'll just leave space here to respond to my reviews, when I get them.

Fireblade: Fear not, I was just referring to your mini-glare from the last review. Thanks for the URL. I was thinking of writing a fic about the story of Sunsinger and Shadowdancer, so maybe I'll get around to that after I finish with Greens.

Wizard: Thanks. It was a favorite of mine too.

Tenshi: No fights, I don't think. Well, maybe a little one. I don't have more than a foggy idea about how the rest of the plot is going to go yet, so you'll just have to wait and see.

Breezefire: Thanks, but no on the infatuation. It's more serious than that, I think. She'll be good for him anyway.

Lurks in Shadows: Yay! First one to figure it out! You get a prize! I've been hinting at it for chapters, or so I thought, but nobody else seems to have gotten it. –Herald Kelsin hands an invisible trophy to you- Anyway, I'll try to update while I'm away, but the lack of computer/internet access is going to be a problem.

Badgerwolf: Yay! I'm glad it came out alright. I was a little worried that it got too sappy and such.

Violet Rush: Glad you liked it! Yes, like Lurks in Shadows, you also sniffed rightly and get to share the invisible trophy. Pol's daughter Eleanor was the Healer that fell in love with Lan, although I didn't find them alike at all. Well, now that I look at it, maybe a little. Perhaps it's a Mindhealer thing.

Hikahi: Actually, yes, since we're talking about the Holderkin, there is supposed to be emphasis on Married as opposed to married, and the other "random" words were also icons as well as words and therefore should have been capitalized.

Silent Stream: Sorry, my sense of humor is slightly limited. Maybe I'll work on your idea on my huge plane ride tomorrow (which will be over by the time you read this) Glad you liked the chapter, though!

Vaches: Don't worry, I've been on vacation too, lol.

Sarah: Thanks! I will!

Moving on. I'm sorry to have made Treet suffer so, but for all the suffering, I thought it was a very well written scene, if I do say so myself.

Still, I was very pleased with it and I hope in advance that when you see it you'll like it. Well, by the time you read this, you'll have already seen it, so I hope you liked it. Gah, this is too confusing for me.

Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. All I can say to excuse myself is that I was away from my computer for the last five weeks, and I've had a nasty case of writers block to boot.

Sorry about any typos or grammar-o's or just plain bad parts that may be in this chapter. I didn't have much time to check it over, and I was desperate to get the chapter out. The next one should be better.

Anyway, on with the show!

Chapter 13: Waking

Later that night, Treet awoke with his father's face still dancing in front of his eyes, convinced that he was being beaten within an inch of his life. The searing pain in his head was certainly testimony to the reality of the scene. Treet nearly screamed in terror when he opened his eyes and found that the face was still there.

The only thing that stopped him was the fact that the aforementioned fright had already frozen his jaw shut. Instead of the scream that every part of his body except for his jaw wanted, he emitted a strangled whimper and shook his head in an agonized way, as though to block out his memories.

He blinked, and the image was gone, thankfully, although the memories it had turned up lingered.

That was when Treet realized that not only was he not in a bed box inside a cold Waystation, but that the person next to him was most certainly not Karissa, unless Karissa had recently had a bad accident with something liquid and green in the area of her head.

Treet's strangled shout woke Lirain up almost instantly, seeing as her ear was currently located right next to Treet's mouth and that she hadn't been sleeping very well to begin with. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and stared at Treet for a moment before putting together the clues her Empathy gave her and the fact that SHE had no reason to be having nightmares like the one that had plagued her all night.

"Had a nightmare?" She asked sympathetically, rubbing sleep from her hazel eyes.

"Yes," Treet shuddered. "A ghastly one."

She winced, remembering, and took his hand in the darkness. "Want to talk about it?" She asked, although she already had every detail engraved in her skull like a carving in wood.

"I-it was horrible," he stammered. "I was all alone, like I was back before the Herald rescued me. All alone in a dark room. It was so d-dark, I couldn't see at all, and then my father came. Charging out of nowhere like some crazed animal, whipping off his belt and screaming about something I did. And there was this horrible pain in my head, like he was beating me, but I knew that he wasn't, yet, anyway. Then, he, he came at me, raising the belt above his head, and even though it was dark, somehow, I was it coming, but I couldn't move, and my head was burning, burning like a fire, then, well, then I woke up." Treet finished feebly.

Lirain smiled sympathetically. How could she have been anything other than sympathetic when, although her own father had never so much as raised a hand against her, she had lived every moment of Treet's nightmare with him.

"That sounds frightening," Lirain said, for lack of anything more sympathetic to say. Her words sounded meaningless and dull to her own ears, as much as she tried to imbue them with all of her emotions.

"No it d-doesn't. It just sounds stupid. You must hate me." Treet said miserably, for he had suddenly realized that he would be very upset if Lirain hated him.

"Of course not," exclaimed Lirain. "Whyever would I hate you?"

"You're so strong and brave and I'm just weak and pathetic. I'm acting like a little who's afraid of the dark. And look how I acted in, in there," Treet said, flinching at referring, even obliquely, to the events in the Dean's office.

"I thought you were very brave, truly," Lirain said, allowing Treet to feel her sincerity with his own Gift of Empathy.

"Really?" Treet asked.

"Yes, really." Lirain reassured him. "Besides, I don't know a single person who didn't do something humiliating during their testing. A Yearmate of mine passed out before the Healer even touched his mind. His mother was a Bard, so he knew all about it beforehand, he'd been building up a good store of terror for nearly a moon, or so he told me later. I told you how I nearly made the presiding Healer cry. She was young, but that's not much of an excuse."

Treet wanted desperately to believe her, more than he had wanted anything in a long time. "What about that Healer who was with you? I bet she never did anything of the sort."

Lirain smiled to herself. "So I thought, too, when I was first assigned to Rith as a Trainee. Rith was happy to leave it that way, but one of the other Healers let it slip during a lesson and I bothered Rith until she told me. At the time, of course, Healer Rith was perfectly well behaved. Just as dignified as she is now, if you can believe it. The Dean didn't have long to ponder the peculiarity, although for a while, she feared for my good teacher's sanity. Rith awoke the night after screaming from a nightmare about her interview, sort of like you. Unlike you, though, she awakened fully half the Collegium with her, not just one insignificant Trainee. She's the strongest projective Empath we have here, and Gods did it show. They had to have another Healer put his strongest shields around her entire room before the other Gifted could shake off the nightmares and terror feelings. Nobody got much sleep that night."

"Oh." Treet said thoughtfully, then blurted the first thing that came into his mind. "You aren't an insignificant Trainee!" Suddenly, the dark room became an advantage as his cheeks flushed scarlet in realization of what he had said.

Lirain, however, seeming to sense his confusion and embarrassment, simply smiled at him and continued. "As you can see, there appears to be a common thread here, as my mathematics teacher would say. Horrible nightmares seem to be a bizarre side effect of having your mind poked, usually nightmares that manifest the reaction headache that said prodding seems to cause."

"Oh." Treet said, knowing that he probably wasn't making a very good impression of his intelligence, but, not being able to do any better, he let it go.

Lirain saw that Treet was still sleepy and uncomfortable. "Here." She said. "They say that the best way to shake a nightmare is to light a candle or something. Light to chase away the last of sleep so that you can start fresh. I'd say we both need it."

She carefully lit a candle by the side of the bed. As she brought the light closer, she heard a muffled groan. At first, she thought it was Treet, but when she looked over at him, she saw him sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking as surprised as she felt.

As Lirain felt cautiously around her with her Empathic senses, she found the person and slowly turned around. Her first thought was to wonder how someone had managed to get into their room without her noticing. She must have been more tired than she had thought!

When she recognized the person snoring lightly in the uncomfortable looking cot beside the bed, her head craned at an unnatural angle, her second thought was of disbelief. Herald Karissa, still in her travel stained Whites, mumbled slightly as Lirain brought the light closer, but was so deep in slumber that she did not wake.

Lirain quickly snuffed the light and looked at Treet. _:Did YOU guess she would so something like that?: _She asked, firmly believing that she was whispering until the words reached Treet. He seemed not to notice that she had used MindSpeech, replying in the same way almost automatically.

_:No idea, honestly.: _Treet said, his tone comprised almost equally of affection and residual terror.

_:Let's not wake her.: _Lirain said, not up to dealing with the question of why they had slipped into MindSpeech.

When they finally went back to sleep that night, it was side-by-side, holding hands.


	14. Tours

Disclaimer: I still can't think of anything, but you all know what goes in this spot by now.

Well, chapter 14, here we are. The second half of the plot is here, and the reviews have been good, with the exception of a couple. It seems the story is progressing well. The only question is whether or not I can keep putting out the chapters. I think I can.

Anyway, nearly at 100 reviews, which was my beginning goal for this story. Hopefully we'll get there soon. Anyway, on to the reviews.

Fireblade: Thanks! She's just being her odd self, I think. Silly Herald.

Tenshi: -hugs back- I missed all this too. That's what comes of having parents who believe in family holidays, I suppose. Headaches are awful; I get them a lot during the school year. Glad you could enjoy the chapter anyway, though. Nightmares are my own failing, so I can concoct them quite well, I think. I have a lot of them for some reason. I liked the end too. Glad you think I'm improving. I try.

Wizard: Oh, I feel like an idiot now. I guess it's because there has been such a gap between here and the last chapter. In chapter 12, the Dean tells Karissa that she can come back and see Treet later. She shows up, he's sleeping; she waits for him to wake up, but ends up falling asleep in the chair. Mystery solved. No great plot point there, I'm afraid, only another little scene showing how much she cares about him.

Crinzin: I know, it was. All I can say is that it was rushed, REALLY rushed. I hadn't updated for over a month, and I really wanted to get SOMETHING out. I'll probably read it over and try to fix the spelling errors and such.

Violet Rush: Yeah, I hated that part in Arrows. I'm sorry about the length, but like I said, I was eager to get something out. Hopefully the next updates will be faster.

Oceanmate: Yup, you guessed it. They are. I'm glad you liked it, and I think our Herald will get over it. Now that she's done it once, she should be able to make some other friends, especially among Heralds.

Lurks in Shadows: I will, thanks!

Vaches: Lol, I guess she is. I planned to drop her out of the storyline soon. I mean, she'll still be there, but I don't plan to spend much more time on her, in this story, at least.

Anyway, now the second part of the plot starts in earnest, since Treet's first tour of the Collegium is here. With that, I'll shut up and start writing the actual storyline. These foreword thingies are getting a bit long, but I like to respond to the reviews, so forgive them, please.

Chapter 14: Tours

When Treet awoke the next morning, he felt decidedly the worse for his midnight adventure. His hair was sticky and plastered to his head, which felt sore and swollen around the eyes. His tongue was so dry that it felt like tinder to his equally dry mouth. The bell that was ringing insistently in the background did nothing to help his head. It was quite faint, but it echoed around in his skull like a bird trying to burrow it's way out of a cage.

Making a virtue out of necessity, Treet hauled himself out of bed, blinking blearily until the two bedside tables that appeared in front of him coalesced into one. On top of the now singular unit, he saw a neatly folded pile of clothes in a pale green, topped by a note, also folded. Moving as silently as he could, to avoid waking the gently snoring Herald in the chair beside his bed, he lifted the note from the table and unfolded it. What he read caused a smile to appear on his face. A faint one, but a smile.

Treet,

I had to go back to my room to get my robes and make arrangements with Healer Rith for today. I'll be back to get you a half Candlemark after the waking bell. I've drawn some Trainee Greens for you from the stores. They probably won't be the right size, but they should do until we get you measured. The bathing room is down the hall to your left if you want a bath. You may want to write a note for the Herald telling her that you'll be gone before she wakes up. Wait for me outside the bathing room before you go anywhere else, it's easy to get lost if you don't know where you're going.

-Lirain

Treet turned the paper over. The other side was blank. He could see that Lirain has thoughtfully left him a quill and some ink, so he inked a quick message telling Karissa that he had gone off with Lirain and would try to find her later.

Treet picked up the set of clothes that Lirain had left and shook them out, laughing inwardly to himself. They were the same sort that the infrequent Healer visitors to the Hold had worn, in a slightly different shade. The exact type, in fact, that Treet's Father had denounced as being unfit garments for a "real man" to wear. His Father had been known to snort loudly and ask whoever was next to him, under his breath, of course, if the Healer in question's "gown" had been designed along the same patterns as his women's dresses, for the two were surely equally pretty.

Treet shook his head at this visible symbol of how far removed Haven was from the Hold. He looked at his ankle length robe in pale green and his knee length tunic of the same color and firmly told himself not to mind what his Father would have thought. If this was the price of his escape from the Hold, he would pay it, and gladly.

He gathered the clothes in his arms and hesitantly peered out of the door. He wasn't doing anything particularly shameful, but he still waited until the hallway was clear before darting to the left. He could see curls of steam coming from one door, so he assumed that he was approaching the bathing room. As he entered, two boys a few years younger than Treet were engaged in a fight with soap bubbles, their white gowns discarded beside one of the tubs.

Treet edged past them as quietly as he could. They obviously weren't Trainees. From what Treet had gathered, Trainees had their own bathing room in their wing of the immense building Treet had found himself in.

His shoulders stiff and arms aching from their tense position, Treet edged past the boys to an empty tub on the other side of the room, managing to get hit with no more than two clods of soap on his way.

After he had soaked in the hot water, reveling in one of the few hot baths he had had since his days as a Little, he felt more like himself again, and less like something completely alien. It was as though the steam weighed down the part of him that had been floating and pushed it back into his body again, although people in tales usually remarked of the opposite sensation.

Remembering that Lirain was waiting for him, he tried his best not to linger too long in the tub, but despite his best efforts, his fingers were wrinkled and the water was cool by the time he hauled himself out, freshly clad in his oversized Greens.

Luckily, Lirain was only just coming down the hallway as Treet emerged. He spotted her easily, both by the sight of her green corona of hair and by the feel of her aura, already as familiar to him as his own.

Lirain waved at Treet enthusiastically, as though their friendship had grown through moons rather than Candlemarks. He waved back, eager to find out what they would be doing.

As soon as she got within arm's reach, she engulfed him in her enthusiasm and carried him off, chattering excitedly all the way, as though to push out any lingering doubts that the hot bath hadn't assuaged.

"First things first," she told him. "We need to get you set up in a room." She brought him through the House of Healing and into another attached building, filled with Trainees bustling about their day-to-day business.

Lirain led him through packs of girls aging from ten to eighteen, pausing to wave at a few and exchange high speed greetings interspersed with questions Treet couldn't make sense of, and into a separate side of the building filled with boys of a similar age, who Lirain smiled mischievously at as they passed.

She flashed Treet a conspiratorial grin as he noticed the odd looks she seemed to be getting from many of the occupants of the hall. "I'm not supposed to be in here," she said, winking at him. "This is the boy's side. I'm your mentor type person, though, and there's no way I'm passing up an opportunity to get in here!" Lirain laughed. "It's a once in a lifetime chance!"

Shortly thereafter, they stopped outside a small door in the middle of a row dotted with other similar doors. Upon inspection, Treet saw that the door had a tiny plaque bearing his name. He wondered where the name of the person he would be sharing the room with went. Surely a lowly Trainee wouldn't get a whole room to himself, Treet thought.

Lirain turned the knob and motioned for Treet to precede her into the room. "Welcome home," she said with a grin. "Or at least, this'll be your home for the next few years."

Noting Treet's stunned expression as he noted the absence of a second bed, she added, "Ever had your own room before?"

Treet shook his head mutely. For as long as he could remember, he had shared a tiny scrap of an attic with at least three of his brothers. Desperate for privacy, he had staked out a corner for his own at a young age, or tried to, and every night he would carefully arrange the small treasures he had been able to accumulate that day, a ripe acorn, a nicely shaped stone, knowing that, come morning, his tiny corner would be found bereft of everything but the remains.

His illusion that he could have some small item or place to call his own had vanished the first time he had awoken to the sounds of his older brother pounding his tiny treasures into dust with his boots, knowing that it would go worse for him if he complained, either to Father or to his brother. Still, every night he had tried to save something, hoping against hope that some recognizable scrap would survive past the morning, although it never did.

Lirain nudged Treet in the back, breaking him out of his memories and prodding him forwards. He stepped into the room and looked around.

It was bare and wooden, the clean swept feeling and the faded areas of the walls and floor indicating that someone else had recently vacated the room. The bed, in the corner, was a definite improvement on his pallet under the attic window, and the closet and chest of drawers were functional, which was more than he had ever dared to hope for.

Treet tried not to think too hard about the implications of having his very own room. He knew that if he did, he would never be able to leave it for fear it would vanish before he returned.

Before he had time to sink into another daze, this time an astonished one, Lirain hauled him out of the room. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to drool on the pretty clean floor later," she said with a laugh in her voice. "We have other chores to finish."

With some trepidation, Treet followed Lirain out into the hallway again, lovingly patting the doorknob as he gently closed the door, silently promising it that he would return later for a proper look.

Treet gazed steadily at the floor and tried to keep up with Lirain as she expertly threaded her way through the crowds and down a set of stairs. The last thing he wanted was for people to _look_ at him, see him, wonder what he was doing there, an interruption of the pure green snake that filled the hallways.

Before he had time to contemplate this further, much less be proud of his metaphor, Lirain grabbed him by the sleeve and drew him into an office.

"This is the new one, Housekeeper," she said, with the air of someone pulling a toffee out of her sleeve for a little.

The Housekeeper, a dark haired woman who looked about the same age as Treet's mother, looked down at a sheaf of papers on her desk, riffling through them until she found the one she wanted. She looked up briefly once the found it.

"This will be Tretin, then," she said in a musical voice.

At Lirain's nod, the Housekeeper stood up, stepped around the desk, and peered at Treet closely. "I'd say about a nine," she said after what appeared to be careful deliberation.

Treet was confused, a state he had been in all too often since he had entered this strange place. There were so many women here, who obviously spoke with great authority. The Dean, Herald Karissa, Healer Rith, Lirain, and now, this "Housekeeper." Treet didn't know if he liked that. His Father certainly wouldn't have approved.

Treet sternly reminded himself that his Father was no longer here to pass judgment over everything Treet said and did. If these women were thought by the King himself to be worthy of such respect, who was a lowly Holderkin boy to say that they did not deserve it, or that it was not their place?

Bearing this in mind, Treet tried a careful smile in reply to the cheerful one he saw on the Housekeeper's face. Her eyes twinkled in response, and she passed him a shadow of a wink. Then, she turned and left through a different door than the one Treet and Lirain had entered.

Lirain turned to Treet, still smiling, which was a seemingly constant state for her. "That was the Housekeeper. She takes care of all the little things that keep the Collegium running."

The Housekeeper returned in time to hear the last part, and winked at Treet again. "So I do," she said. "All these Healer types, they'd never get new clothing and such if somebody didn't remind them, it's always just one more project, and the Trainees can be like-minded."

The Housekeeper deposited the bundles she had brought back in Treet's hands. "You can come back here for more clean uniforms and linens whenever you need them, but these will get you started. You change your bed-linens once a week and put the dirty ones down the chute in the bathing room, same with your dirty clothes." She looked at Treet sternly. "It is part of your duty as a Healer Trainee, and later as a Healer to always be clean and presentable. Nobody wants a careless Healer when they're sick, and your clothing and appearance will tell them that you aren't. You change your clothes every day, unless you have Arms practice or you're doing something else messy, in which case you change them as soon as you get back to your room. You wash before every meal and have a hot bath each night, come flood or famine."

Treet almost backed up a step from the Housekeeper's righteous vigor, but Lirain's hand on his shoulder stopped him. She divested him of half the pile the Housekeeper had placed into his arms, bending over to get it and whispering in Treet's ear, "Don't worry about Housekeeper, it's her duty to put the fear of the gods into us. You'll get along fine."

Treet smiled weakly and waited for the Housekeeper to continue.

"Now," she said in a much more friendly voice, "It is the tradition in all three of the Collegia that all the Trainees share the chores of their Collegium. Do you have any experience in the so-called "homely" tasks?"

"Umm," Treet said, thinking about it. He had always been told that "woman's work" was beneath him as a man, and as such, he had little experience with it. "I can hunt," he said doubtfully, "fetch and carry, clean a little. That's about it."

He thought the Housekeeper would be disgusted with him, but he was pleasantly surprised. She only nodded and looked at her charts thoughtfully.

"I think we'll put you down for serving, then, and dishwashing the next week." She made a mark in one of her books and scribbled a piece of paper, handing it to Treet. "There's your schedule as it stands right now. If you can't fit it in, come talk to me and we'll work something out. If you're a server, report to the kitchen a few minutes before the meal you are serving for. If you're washing, report to the kitchen as soon as you've eaten. Can you handle that?"

Treet nodded uncertainly, trying to balance his schedule and his stack of clothes so that he didn't lose either one on the way out.

"I leave you in Lirain's competent hands, then," the Housekeeper said, turning back to her books.

Lirain led Treet back up the stairs and back into the little room that she had told him was his, dumping her share of the pile of linens and clothes on the floor with a sigh, then following them down. "We'll have a lot of work getting this place ready for you," she said. "Ah well, I'm excused from lessons until after lunch, so I have time, and you have nothing but, your chores and classes don't start until tomorrow."

Treet sighed gratefully. One more day between him and the inevitable crush of people and lessons was a certain improvement.

Lirain rose from her seat on the floor and began to sort out what was for the bed and what was clothing. The Greens and associated garments, she carried over to the closet and began to hang up, motioning for Treet to take the bed.

Treet looked dubiously at the bare bed and pile of fabrics. He untangled what appeared to be a sheet and began to wrestle it onto the bed. By the time Lirain was finished with the closet, Treet had managed to struggle half the mattress into the wrong side of the sheet. Sighing, Lirain helped him.

They had only just finished when the same bell Treet remembered from that morning began to clang insistently. He jumped in surprise, but Lirain barely seemed to notice.

"That's the lunch bell," she said, dusting her hands together. "We'd better go wash up. I have to go back to the girl's bathing room, but I'll show you where to go. I'll meet you at the end of this hallway in a few minutes. Just do what everyone else is doing. Can you handle that?"

"Sure!" Treet said, with far more certainty than he felt. After she had left, he changed into another pair of Greens, which, he was relieved to notice, fit far better than the ones Lirain had gotten him. He followed the mass of other boys washing up for lunch, and, by copying their movements, managed to escape fairly unnoticed, apart from a few friendly pats on the back and calls of 'Hey! You're the new one, aren't you?'

He struggled out of the crush, cleaner than he had entered it, and joined up with Lirain, already waiting for him.

"And they say girls take an age to get ready!" She exclaimed upon seeing him, with a smile and a wink to show she was kidding. "Let's get lunch, I'm _starving_!"_  
  
_

Treet had no objection. Having missed breakfast, food was a most welcome thought. He followed Lirain through the hallway, trying to walk in her shadow as much as possible, so that people would see her and not him. He knew that he would have to meet all of these new people eventually, but, like his classes, he was just as glad to put it off for a while.

When they reached what Lirain identified as the Cafeteria, he slouched into the room, hoping to find a corner seat and escape notice, but it was futile. Before he had a chance, Lirain grabbed him by the arm and hauled him off to a center table.

Although it was already crowded, the occupants willingly moved around to make room for Lirain and her guest.

Treet was bowled over by the sheer amount of people sitting at the tables. There were many people who wore the darker green robes of a full Healer, but the tables were packed with those clad in the lighter robes of a Trainee as well.

Lirain looked over at Treet. "We do the eating thing a little differently than the other Collegia. Because Healers have such erratic schedules, the kitchen is open for a space of about three Candlemarks for each meal. You come in, grab something and leave or stay as you wish."

Treet looked around the room. He could see that only a few of the full Healers actually stayed to eat. Most simply filled their arms with food and left as fast as they could.

"Those are mostly working Healers. The teaching Healers have a more regular schedule, and eat at a more sedate pace," Lirain said around a mouthful of food. Noticing that Treet hadn't taken any, she shoved a plate at him and urged him to serve himself from one of the large, communal platters that studded the tabletops.

As he did, she introduced him to everyone at the table, literally. Treet found it amazing how she managed to know absolutely everyone at a table packed with Trainees, and even more amazing how she managed to command their attention long enough to introduce him.

Before he knew it, though, the lunch was over and Lirain was standing up. "I have dishwashing as a chore today and after that I have lessons with Rith. Will you be alright for the afternoon? This'll give you a nice chance to explore the Collegium in all it's glory."

"Sure," Treet said, with more enthusiasm than he felt. "Umm, I'll see you again, right?" He asked, suddenly nervous that his new protector would abandon him in this strange place.

"Of course!" Lirain laughed. "You can't be rid of me that easily! You're stuck with me at least until you're done your training, in some form or another. Now go on, go spend some time alone."

Treet left the room, heartened and somewhat looking forward to the prospect of a little time alone.


	15. First Day

Disclaimer: In case, over that long wait between the last chapter and this one, you somehow managed to forget what I've been drilling into your head for months, I don't own…Mercedes Lackey does.

I know, it's been a long time. Feel free to kick me, etcetera. School is bad. Being a sophomore is a lot more work than I thought and I haven't had a lot of time to just sit down and write. I haven't been so happy with the way the story is going either. I'm trying to make it work, but I feel like I'm making things too idealized and without enough detail and such. Anyway, I'll do better about updating, I hope.

First, though, reviews!

Fireblade: Thanks! You're right about the Healer's Collegium. That's one reason why I chose it, I'm not so good at REFERRING TO THE TEXT, lol, and of course, I was interested. –cringes- Sorry I haven't been updating…or reviewing. The last few chappies of Like the Moon were awesome, by the way.

Violet Rush: I think I may have meant halfway through the plot, I don't really remember. I'll do my best though.

Wizard: -cringes- Yeah, not doing so well on the chapter posting, am I?

Lurks in Shadows: Probably. Of course, she'll be out on circuit a lot, so she won't be around incredibly much.

Tenshi: Thanks. I really didn't feel like having to have him work around a prejudice, although it might have dealt with some of my idealism problems.

Vaches: Thanks!

Anyway, on with the chapter! Skipping a tiny bit to try to get the story on track again, but its only a matter of hours, so it shouldn't be a problem. Sorry about the rushed-ness, I really wanted to publish tonight. Maybe I'll revise and republish, so forgive any typos or bad paragraphs at the very end, please.

Chapter 15: First Day

Treet awoke the next morning in his very own bed, a luxury he allowed himself a few seconds to savor before rolling out onto the cold wooden floor. While he didn't have the sore, swollen eyes that had signaled his awakening the previous morning, nor the pounding headache, the small shielding that the room in the House of Healing had offered from the Waking Bell of the Collegia was no longer in effect.

He groaned and stretched, the lively pealing seeming incongruous for the time of morning in question. Dawn's rosy cheeks had just begun to show over the horizon and his whole room seemed bathed in a warm light.

Treet looked around, realizing as he had not realized before how empty his room seemed. He was used to being packed into a small space with groups of other people whenever he was indoors. Generally, those others weren't exactly happy for him to be there. Having this much room to breathe was an extravagance to Treet, even more so than waking up in his own bed.

He could have stayed there and pondered the luxury indefinitely, lying on the floor where he had rolled out of bed, but the insistent clanging of the waking bell reminded him that he had places to be and with that awareness, a feeling like molten lead flowed into his stomach.

People hurt you. He wasn't even conscious of saying it to himself, but after this long it had become instinctive. People hurt you. Even here, they hurt you. Maybe they have a good reason, but they still hurt you.

Almost mechanically, Treet got up, made the bed and grabbed some clean clothes, after some initial confusion during which his subconscious mind attempted valiantly to convince him that those green, dress-like things in the closet couldn't possibly be his, then walked down the hallway, as nonchalantly as he could, for a bath.

Because he pressed his body against the wall and was wearing a fairly generic sleeping shirt, the other Trainees ignored him. They were nowhere near as rowdy as his brothers, and nothing close to as disturbing as he had expected. In fact, they all radiated a sort of comforting silence, a greenness that soothed his mind the way most other presences rubbed it raw.

On his way back down the hallway, freshly dressed and bathed, he remembered to grab his schedule from where it had been pinned to his door, marveling that nobody had stolen or shredded it yet.

Looking at the paper, with its neat and precise handwriting, Treet somehow thought of Lirain. He wondered if he would ever see her again, but he doubted it. It was fine for her to talk of being his friend and to comfort him when they had been thrown together, but surely, surely she would have no time for him, would not want to spare time for such a cowardly weakling as he knew himself to be.

He sighed and tried to put Lirain out of his mind, as he had so many anguish causing things, placing her in her own special mental box, which he lovingly and somewhat frivolously imagined to have her name traced on it in curling gold script.

Then, with much mental regret, he shoved the box into the deepest, darkest corners of his mind, somewhere it couldn't hurt him. Well, he amended ruefully; somewhere it can't hurt me much, anyway.

With that, he blanked his mind as best as he could, unsure of what he was doing. His mind felt unsteady, unbalanced. At times, he felt wide open to everything around him. Other times, he couldn't feel anything at all.

Blinking furiously, Treet stumbled down the hallway to the room where Lirain had told him that his Orientation class would be. From what he had gathered, for his first moon at the Collegium, he would spend a decreasing amount of time here from the entire morning down to a Candlemark, learning about why he was at the Collegium.

'That,' he thought wryly, 'is a lesson I could certainly do with.'

Unwilling to bear with another fit of melancholy, he firmly squashed all of his doubts and fears into a ball in the other dark corner of his mind, grasped his courage in his hands and twisted the doorknob, walking into a room that seemed the size of an entire pasture filled with people, although in reality it was little more than thrice the size of his new bedroom.

Treet gulped, and confronting the sea of new faces seemed less like something he could maybe jolly himself into and more like something to run away from, very fast.

Too late. He'd been spotted. A Healer, wearing the same thing Treet was, except in a darker shade of green and of finer materials, smiled in what Treet supposed was meant to be a reassuring fashion and beckoned towards Treet to have a seat on the rug with the rest of the people there.

Treet took an unconscious step back. He had had quite enough, thank you very much, of people trying to cajole him into things. He felt a sudden spark on anger, born in fear, but it died as quickly as it had struck, leaving Treet feeling very much alone.

Somewhere deep in his mind, so deep that he barely noticed it and did not think about it, a small and previously unused portion of his mind twanged with a message of comfort and reassurance.

Treet didn't notice any of this, and what he didn't notice, he couldn't object to. All he knew was that he suddenly felt as though he might be able to force his clumsy feet into those last few steps. Somehow, he managed, taking a seat as far to the back as he could and smiling tentatively at the friendly overtures a few of the other boys made towards him.

Before long, the Healer at the front of the room coughed gently and the collective attention of the class, which Treet could now see was only around fifteen children of approximately his age, turned with varying degrees of reluctance to the man who fairly dripped with an aura of friendliness to Treet's mind.

"Hello everyone," he said with an agreeable smile and a nod that made his thick brown hair, cut just above his shoulder, shake and sway at the ends.

"Now, does anyone know why we're here today?"

To Treet's amazement and great admiration, the boy a few rows in front of Treet shot his hand up.

"Yes, Mardic," the teacher said, with another smile that would have been condescending on anyone but him.

"We're here to learn to be Healers," Mardic said, with more shortness and deliberateness than Treet would have given him credit for.

"Yes, we are," the Healer said. "Or, rather, you are. I'm here to help you get started. My name is Healer Josh, and you'll be seeing rather a lot of me for the next moon. Now, can anyone tell me what a Healer does?"

A blonde girl on the other side of the room from Treet answered in a quiet voice "Healers help people. When they're sick, they make them better. When they get hurt, Healers fix it."

"Very good," Josh praised. "Now, does anyone know how they do that?"

"They use the things any village herbswoman would use," another boy Treet couldn't see answered. "But they also have a special Gift for Healing, and that's what brings them, us, here."

"That's right. You're all here because you have the Healing Gift, which allows you to see and correct sickness and injury. You'll learn more about that in your Gift classes. You also have one of the mindmagic Gifts traditionally attributed to Heralds, although this one seems to be almost always unique to Healers when it appears in any strength at all. Does anyone know what that is?" Josh asked.

"Empathy!" A group of people called out.

"Exactly so. For those of you who don't know, Empathy is a special Gift that allows us to feel what others are feeling, if they or we are unshielded or untrained, or if their emotions are powerful enough."

Treet sat with his mouth open, absorbing everything he could. His little green book hadn't made more than a cursory mention of the Healing Gifts, and although the textbooks already in his room had, their terms had been so arcane that Treet hadn't managed to get past page ten of any of them.

By the end of that morning, it had begun to sink in for Treet. He was really going to be a Healer. Maybe someday he would have a job he could do, a place of his own. He wouldn't be the odd little black sheep in a flock of white ones, or worse, but more aptly, a sheep in a flock of maddened bulls.

On his way out the door, he heard Healer Josh call after him. "Trainee Tretin? Could you come here for a second?"

Immediately all the good cheer that had built up inside Treet vanished, as surely as if it had never been. In his experience, a summons from an adult never meant anything good. The walk back through the room seemed to take forever, yet not long enough. He frantically riffled through his memories, trying to think what he could have done.

Could the Dean want to see him again? He shuddered inwardly. Anything but that! Well, not anything, but, please, he begged any power that might be listening. Not that again.

Healer Josh could see that the child was anguished, but he firmly checked his first impulse, which was to soothe and comfort. That would do no good in the long run. If this child was to be a Healer, he would have to learn on his own that the other Healers meant him no harm and not through the insidious emotional projections that Josh or any other Healer was capable of coloring his perceptions with.

As Treet approached the front of the room, he stopped cold, unconsciously bracing himself for a blow. He ducked his head, staring steadfastly at the floor, and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting.

Josh frowned. "Child, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, gently and slightly reproachfully.

Treet did not reply, but allowed himself a moment's cynical thought to the effect of 'That's what they all say. Next comes the 'it's for your own good' speech, which never precedes anything good.'

Josh seemed to sense some of Treet's skepticism and Treet blushed, realizing the implications of that day's lessons.

"Exactly." Josh said, breaking the silence. "Tretin, you are not properly shielded. Now, I can guess why that is, and I understand that it's not your fault, but we have to correct this. One of the first things a strong Empath must learn is how to keep their emotions to themselves."

Treet blushed even redder and felt an acute stab of fear at the memory of why he seemed to have none of these things called shields.

"No, nothing like that." Josh said, knowing that it was better to reassure Treet early on than to allow him to retain the illusion that his mind was not wide open. "I'm just going to teach you how to shield properly. First, we ground and center."

Treet remembered those words from one of the textbooks he had tried to read. He had had no idea what they meant, but they had seemed important.

"First," Josh continued in a soothing monotone, "I want you to look inside your mind. Look for the most stable, least chaotic place you can find."

Somewhat to Treet's surprise, he found it fairly easily, a sturdy pillar of glowing green in one of the dusty forgotten parts of his mind.

"Good. Now, you should see some sort of pillar or connection to the ground."

"I see it." Treet said cautiously.

"Good, now follow it." Josh instructed. "Follow it until you find a stable place in the earth, then root yourself to it. You'll never lose it once you find it."

Treet did, and with a click like a door fitting into its frame, he snapped himself into it.

"Very good." Josh sounded faintly surprised. "You're doing very well, for someone with no training. Now, use the energy you found to build up walls around your mind. Make sure you can take then down again if need be, but make them strong."

Treet remembered how it had felt when he had touched Herald Karissa's mind, the shields and how they had been constructed. After two or three tried, he managed to erect something that would stand up on its own.

When he came up to the surface again, Josh was smiling at him. "Good work. You see, I told you I wasn't going to hurt you. Now run along or you'll miss lunch."

Treet stood there for a moment, basking in relief. The silence he hadn't had in his mind for moons, if not years, and never realized he had missed, was back, so delightful. Then his stomach broke him out of his daze and he left, hoping he could remember how to find the dining hall.


	16. Classes

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own this stuff any more than I did yesterday night. But I definitely own Treet, Lirain and all associated people. All mine!

I forgot to do the hundred review dance last chapter. I'll have to do it now. Thanks everyone! Couldn't have done it without you all! Speaking of reviews, lets get there quickly so I can stop procrastinating and start writing.

Tenshi: Snuggling romance…-grins at new evil ideas- Must make time for lots of that before the end of the story!

Fireblade: Thanks! I got it from that part in Arrows where Talia stops having nightmares that one night she sleeps in a cot with those Army Healers. At least, I think I got it there. It's so hard to tell sometimes.

Wizard: Yes, I decided to let him live. After reading my story over, I also decided to like it again. Goodness all around.

Oceanmate: Thanks! I felt that I took my last story too fast, so I'm trying to focus on the characters this time.

Crinzin: Thanks! Don't worry, he'll figure it out eventually.

Silentstream: Actually, I'm not. On the surface, they seem like similar people, the shyness, the Empathy, but they're really very different, or so I hope, because if they aren't, I haven't been doing my job well enough. The only thing I got from Arrows was the general description of the Holderkin. And Treet isn't going to be a Mindhealer, by the way, don't know if I mentioned that.

Violet Rush: Thanks! I looked back on it and I can see what you mean. Maybe that's just the way he is. I wouldn't want all my characters to be impersonal and the same all the time. Still, thanks for letting me know. He'll disappear in a while, but I'll bear that in mind in future. I seem to be thinking of Treet a little in terms of a child, which he certainly isn't, except in a few ways because of his upbringing. Actually, I'm a high school sophomore –grins-

Actually, on that note, will you people let me know if I seem to be/have been getting into an Arrows sort of track with this story? I don't really want to go there.

Anyway, you people will have to kick me back on track, because I'm liable to keep procrastinating for the NEXT month, and poor Treet'll be stuck in limbo. I'm going to kick myself now and get on with the chapter, so enjoy!

Sorry the chapter's short and it took so long. I seem to have pretty much constant writers block. Hopefully it'll get better and I'll be able to update more regularly.

Chapter 16: Classes

Treet edged into the dining hall, nerves still afire and twanging from his near miss with Healer Josh. He was hoping to avoid the crush, maybe grab some food and sneak it into a quiet corner.

Focusing all of his attention on his need to not be seen, he edged along the wall. As soon as he had gotten his food and was looking for a convenient corner to lurk in, he heard his name shouted over the crowd. He jumped as though someone had set fire to the hem of his tunic. Somehow, he managed to trip over his own feet on the landing, somehow ending tangled up in a sprawl on the floor in an extremely undignified position.

In the few seconds he had to ponder it, he braced himself for the inevitable laughter and kicks that he was sure would be his lot for the next few minutes. When his muscles and eyes started to ache from being held so tight and with no kick forthcoming, he opened his eyes a little to see a large Trainee looming over him, smiling broadly but offering his hand.

Dazed, Treet took it and allowed himself to be hauled upright and patted on the shoulder by the older Trainee. Treet turned bright red and started to mutter an apology, but the Trainee interrupted him.

"Don't worry about it, really. Happens to everyone," the Trainee said affably, before turning back to his friends.

Treet was happy enough never to see that particular Trainee again, so he turned and disappeared into the crowd as fast as he could. He wasn't quite sure who it was that had called his name, but given that there was an emerald haired Trainee jumping up and down and waving in his direction, he could have made a fairly good guess. Grinning to himself, he threaded his way towards her.

Without Treet even realizing it, a large smile had appeared on his face and he felt like a spring too tightly coiled. If Lirain had looked good red and puffy eyed from sleep, she looked even better now. Treet could barely take his eyes from her.

Lirain waved enthusiastically. This wasn't unusual for her. Although she had learned when it was a good idea to mute her motions and actions, when she was with her fellow Trainees, she did everything with enough vigor for two fully Gifted Bards on the scent of a new ballad.

Treet tried to casually insinuate himself through the crowd, with mixed results. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found himself safely seated next to Lirain at one of the long tables that held whatever full Healers could find time for a bite and most of the Healer Trainees.

"So, how was Orientation?" Lirain asked casually.

"Well, I learned a good deal about what happens if this war with Karse finally erupts onto the border and I get captured by a mad priest," Treet said jokingly.

"So glad your morning was useful. I guess they taught you to shield properly?"

"They did. I never realized how much I was picking up until I wasn't anymore. It was like a constant headache in the back of my head."

Lirain grinned. "A headache? In a building full of Healers? You may be one of the first to manage that particular feat. Speaking of headaches, have you seen that Herald of yours? She'll have a monster of one when she gets around to noticing it."

Treet's face fell. "I haven't seen her anywhere. I thought maybe she'd at least say goodbye before she left again, but she just disappeared."

"I'm sure she'll show up." Lirain would have said more, but the other Trainees involved her in a spirited discussion of the relative merits of two of the herbs used in a common headache potion, and Treet was too happy just listening to her voice to interrupt.

As the warning bells rang throughout the Collegia, Lirain turned back to Treet. "What're you doing this afternoon?"

"My schedule says I have independent study for most of the afternoon, so basically, I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing." Treet said with a little self-deprecating laugh.

"Independent study? That's simple enough. The Healer's Collegium is different from the other two in that there aren't many actual classes as such. For as long as you have Orientation, you'll have independent study in the afternoon, and a half Candlemark talking to a Healer from one of the specialties until you find the one that you are best suited to. I'll come and find you later today and we can arrange that. Once Orientation ends and you find yourself a mentor, you'll have one afternoon a week of independent study, and the rest of the time, you'll be with your mentor. Practical skills in the afternoon and theory, which is basically book learning and which you get to do mostly on your own, in the morning. Plus, of course, Weaponswork right after lunch. All Trainees take at least a year of that, no matter what Collegium."

"Weaponswork?" Treet asked curiously. He was no stranger to weapons, although he was no fighter either. He was competent with a bow and arrows and had expected to be taught to use real weapons some time in his fifteenth or sixteenth year. Herald Karissa, of course, had had other ideas that most decidedly did not involve the Hold. He smiled a little at the thought.

"Yes," Lirain said. "Every Trainee is required to know how to defend themselves or a person under their care, in our case. Healers are held largely immune, but not entirely."

Treet nodded. "That makes sense. Is it hard?"

"It may seem hard at first, but once you get used to it," she smiled. "I actually got to like it a little, but my duties don't leave much time for any more classes. There are so few MindHealers."

Noticing for the first time since she had seen Treet the steady stream of Trainees rushing off, she swore. "Speaking of duties, I'll be late to my afternoon work if I don't hurry and I have after lunch chores in the animal pens. Library's straight on your left, in the Heraldic building, that's the big one in the middle. Look for your Yearmates or your Orientation teacher. I'll see you later!" With that, she rushed off like a whirlwind, gracefully threading her way back through the Trainees.

When Treet finally arrived, he saw that most of his Orientation class was already there, sitting around Healer Josh at one of the larger tables. Before he went towards them, however, he simply stood in silence admiring the majesty of the library. Wall to wall books, of every conceivable title, size and color. The room was filled with Trainees in various colors, all reading.

Treet slowly walked over to where his Yeargroup was sitting and took a chair in between a tall dark haired girl and a boy that he recognized vaguely from that morning. When Josh saw him, he smiled and called the class to order.

"Now that everyone's here," he said, "I'm going to tell you how you'll be spending your afternoon, and many like it, over the next few years. All of you should have marked 'Independent Study' for the next few periods for this day and time. Now, as you may know, Trainees from all three Collegia are required to learn about the basics of Valdemaran law, Geography, Mathematics and Literature. Because our full Healers are needed for duties other than teaching, for the most part, you will be learning these subjects by yourself. All the books you could possibly need are here, and any of the older Trainees will be happy to help you, in fact, it's part of their duties, some of them. As your mentors may have told you, after independent study each day for the rest of this moon, you'll be meeting Healers who specialize in various areas, such as Mindhealing, Trauma injuries and others. Pending approval of the Dean, the choice of which area you want to study is all yours. You'll find that, although the Healing Gifts are all similar, you'll have a decided affinity for one of the types of Healing."

After answering a few questions from the Trainees and pointing out roughly where the books on different subjects were located, he reminded them that a report on their studies would be due in a moon and left them to explore on their own.


	17. More Mindhealers

Disclaimer: Sigh…Once again, I own nothing. Most unfortunate, but true. Only my characters, writing and plot belong to me.

Fireblade K'Chona: Yup. Thanks! I know, my chapters should be longer. I try to hit around five pages, but then I run out of computer time or I get stuck or something happens. Awesome chapter of LtM, by the way.

Tenshi: Yeah, writers block stinks. I tried to work on my Karissa one-shot, and guess what? As soon as I finish, I discover that fanfiction has disabled logging in for the next three days…just my luck, lol. I guess I'll post that soon.

Lurks in Shadows: More coming…eventually.

Oceanmate: I was going to, but I ran out of net time. Don't worry, though, I'm not skipping it. That's what this chapter is for. I'm not unfamiliar with the specialty areas, but I'm having a combination of writers block and massive lack of computer time. Circumstances are conspiring against me, lol.

Vaches: Thanks. Happy late Halloween to you too. When Treet grows up, he's going to be that Healer that ends up treating Pol when a tree branch falls on him. Apart from that, who can tell?

Wizard: I know. Short chapters. I'm evil like that. Too good at writing authors notes and bad at long chapters.

Violet Rush: Thanks and thanks, lol. I try my best, and I'm better with FanFiction because I have issues starting new worlds and things from scratch. Maybe someday I'll manage original fiction, lol. I tried to work on Joshe, glad you approved.

Ellen: Thanks. You're right, there should definitely not be an ok in there…-glares at it- I try not to do that, but since I don't live in Valdemar, one sneaks in occasionally. I think someone commented on it earlier, and I need to get around to fixing it. You're right, Karissa needs an army of MindHealers stitched to her robes. She was meant to be a small sub character, but she sort of took over part of the story. I don't know why I don't set the two of them up, but since I'm not an adult, I don't really feel up to writing a relationship of that sort between them. –grin- I'm glad I'm still a kid and I can just sit down and eat turkey and never mind worrying about relatives and such, lol. I try to update quickly, but as I mentioned, various time constraints are out to get me. Glad you like the story.

Lady Ultima: You make a good point, but I did reread everything I could find pertaining to the classes at the Heraldic Collegium and found no mention of any Healer Trainee in any of the classes except for Weaponswork, which I mentioned that these Trainees will be in. I would say that those courses would be optional and/or for higher level Trainees, since there is no specific mention. Also, while ordinary youth might have more trouble, highborn Blues for instance, Healers tend to be very serious and hardworking indeed, according to Selenay's description in Exile's Valor, so with older Trainees assigned to help them with anything they don't understand, I think the system would work out alright.

Tessabe: Wow, I can't believe I forgot about the horse. You're right, that is a massive loose end. Unfortunately, I don't think I can write him in at this late date. Lol…wow, I was so sure I'd checked for things like that.

Right, that author's note was too long. –glares at it- I'm not including anything else because this thing is practically a chapter all by itself. On to the chapter. Sorry it's short. The next few are going to be basically him meeting all the different Healers, after that's done, the plot can get going again. Sorry about the interlude, but I think it adds color and such. Ok, anyway, shutting up now.

Chapter 17: More Mindhealers

Treet was studying quietly in the library. He had no idea how long he had been there or how long he would stay there. He was completely absorbed in a thin, plainly bound volume on the applications of various herbs. Who would have guessed that the rows of valerian he had so carefully stepped around on his way out could be used to relieve tension and ease insomnia? He had never been encouraged to learn such things before. They were for the Underwives to concoct and the Firstwife to know about.

He was so engrossed in his reading that he barely noticed when Lirain came up behind him. She stood there, reading over his shoulder, for nearly a full minute before he felt an unmistakable sense of someone there. He turned, knowing it was her, and smiled.

She smiled back and unconsciously sent a feather light touch of greeting, like the faint press of a hand on the shoulder. "Ready to go? As your official and oh-so-competent mentor, I've made arrangements for you to meet a Healer from each of the main specialties we train in this Collegium. Since my mentor is the only full Mindhealer stationed here at the moment, she has a hard time fitting people in, but she has a spare few minutes today and she sent me to drag you off to her lair."

Noting Treet's frown, she laughed. "I'm only kidding, really. It's merely her office. She only uses it when she's being official or teaching me, although if she's too tired to get back to her rooms, she's been known to fall asleep in there. That's why I call it her lair."

"Oh," Treet said and then lapsed into silence. He thought he had been doing pretty well at shoving the whole interview incident into the back of his mind, but the last thing he wanted was to see that Mindhealer again. It was always the little things that brought back the memories. Always the small details that cling when the main event is lost. The way Rith's dark green robes had barely brushed the floor as she knelt, her long fingers just barely on the arm of a chair, the way Lirain's slate eyes had rested on his face for a long moment when they had first met.

He shook his head to clear the snippets of images dancing behind his eyes and looked around to discover that he was already out replacing the book on the shelf it had come from.

"It's a good thing we're going to see a Mindhealer after all," Lirain teased, seeing the blank look in Treet's eyes. "By the look of things, you're missing a goodly portion of your mind this morning."

"I am not!" Treet snapped violently, knowing that Lirain was kidding, but unable to stop himself. "And I don't need…what you said, either."

"I know you don't," Lirain said, in a slightly sulky tone. To her own surprise, her eyes filled with tears, which she immediately swallowed. It had been years since someone her own age had been able to make her cry!

"Anyway," she continued. "No offense meant, really. I see her every day, she's practically a third parent, it doesn't occur to me that people might be bothered by her."

"It's not that," Treet managed with an effort. He wondered if he should finish and figured he might as well. "It's just that every time I see her, I'll think of…you know, the last time I was alone with her."

"You weren't alone! I was there. And the Dean," Lirain added as an afterthought.

"I know, but you know what I mean." He was sure, somehow, that she did, which would have been odd, had he taken the time to notice it. He hastily changed the subject. "So, what are the other Healing specialties, other than Mindhealing?"

Lirain, glad of a diversion, started on the standard speech. "We have trauma injury, which is violently inflicted injury usually accompanied by shock. One of the senior Healers is Healer Sera, you'll see her tomorrow. Then we have disease with Healer Trent presiding, who we'll go see the day after that. Don't let him intimidate you. He's naturally rather dour. We, the other Trainees and I, that is, think it's because he sees so many terminal patients. He's not young and it's fairly hard to be surrounded by the sick and dying all day. Then we get Healer Don, who is a senior Healer for illnesses of all types, your regular fever, cough, cold, then last of all we have our general Healers, Healer Ria is the one we'll talk to. They are usually assigned to one or a group of important people, like the King's Healer, the Healer to the Heralds, Healer to the Bards. For what it's worth, they speak for the Temple Healers as well, those who aren't stationed in Haven. Most of those are general Healers, we like to keep the specialties close by, but the others are free to wander Valdemar as they will, for the most part."

Treet got about the first half of that statement before he switched from listening to the words to listening to Lirain's voice. He thought he could listen to it all day, the way it ebbed and flowed, rushing softly around the hallway, filling the empty space with its sound. The Firstwife had always had a screechy voice, so far as Treet could remember. He didn't think even his Father wanted to hear her speak, but listening to Lirain was like listening to music, only less boring.

Before he knew it, her idle chatter had passed the narrow time gap between him and Rith's office. He would have kept right on walking had Lirain not grabbed his arm and motioned towards the door.

"Here we are. I'll be here to help you find your way to dinner after you're done," Lirain said.

"You mean you aren't coming?" Treet asked in a panicked sounding voice.

"I can't," Lirain said regretfully. "It'd be against the rules. I might influence you somehow, and besides, you need to learn to deal with other Healers, sooner rather than later. So Rith tells me, anyway."

"I don't know if I can go in there alone," Treet said nervously.

"Sure you can," Lirain coaxed. "You'll have to see her eventually, anyway, the Collegium isn't that big. My official, mentor-like opinion is that you can do this. Now go on," she said firmly, rapping on the door and propelling Treet forwards before he had the chance to protest further.

He managed to regain his footing just beyond the doorframe, sneaking a glance upwards as he did so. The room was unremarkable, having only a long, well-padded and well-used couch and a desk, behind which sat Rith, looking exactly as he remembered, right down to the aura of competence that seemed to flow from her like a river.

From what Treet could see from the very upper part of his vision, she was smiling. For the most part, however, he could see nothing but a rather large swathe of floor.

"Here, have a seat," she said, the standard opening line ringing as though from miles away.

He sat down in the most contorted fashion imaginable, trying to keep his eyes on the floor at all times while still maintaining some level of comfort and as much dignity as possible.

Before he knew what was happening, quicker than he would have thought possible, Rith had rounded the desk and was standing so close to him that he could count the stitches on her robes. She touched him gently on the shoulder with two fingers, a feather light touch.

Treet froze solid. It took all of his willpower not to flee, although he wasn't sure if he could have moved. He blinked slowly, trying to breathe, his lungs feeling as though they were being compressed by an entire horse cart loaded with market goods.

Her voice was light and perfectly even, non-judgmental in the extreme. "There's only one question to ask, really, so no point lies in prolonging the discomfort with feather witted pleasantries. Even a fool with no Empathy at all could see that you can't even look at me, and I have considerably more than none," she said, callously invoking a reminder and watching Treet flinch with the practiced eye of an expert. "Do you think you could ever be comfortable studying under me? Or rather, do you want to become a Mindhealer enough to learn to deal with our, hmm, prior meeting?" She asked tactfully, her tone nothing near as stern as her words suggested. "It's alright, you can tell the truth. In fact, I strongly advise it, as you will be stuck with your decision for some time."

Treet wished from the bottom of his soul that he was somewhere else. Maybe in a few moons he would be able to look at her without wanting to run, but until then, he would forswear any bright future to get out of her presence. He shook his head.

"I'll take your word for it, of course," Rith continued. "I really prefer to take on only one student at a time anyway, although as the only trained Mindhealer currently in Haven, I do make exceptions. If you really can't get along with any of the other teachers, come back and we'll talk again. It would be possible, although not easy or comfortable, at first, for me to be your teacher."

"You can go," she said kindly after a few moment's pause, since Treet made no sign of moving. "If it helps, one day, you'll probably be able to talk to me without wanting to die," she added, half in jest. Playing with people's minds always left her drained and exhausted, as well as just slightly sharp. She had been trained to heal, to help, not to toy, to elicit bad memories and nightmares. Still, someone had to do it, and she would not wish such a first few days as she would have had with Treet upon any Trainee, especially one who did not realize or denied the difficulty, as Trainees were wont to do. Some were more resilient than others, however, and Treet had had an exceptionally bad time. She hoped she hadn't blown his fixation/terror out of all proportion, but only time would tell. For the most part, it wore off eventually.

Treet numbly hoisted himself up, mumbling something along the lines of thanking Rith for her time, and darted out the door.

"There, still in one piece?" Lirain asked teasingly, popping out from around the next corner.

Treet blinked dazedly. "Mostly."

"Well, that was pretty fast. What'd our dear Healer in there say to you?"

Treet tried to remember. A conversation surfaced, seemingly far away. "She asked me if I was willing to learn to deal with her as a teacher in order to be a Mindhealer, or if I'd rather find a different teacher. I shook my head at appropriate intervals, so basically, we're still on the hunt," he joked lamely.

"Much as I expected, but it's always better to try. Now, how about something to eat before you faint? The dinner bell's just rung and you're white as a bleached Companion."

In fairly good spirits, Treet allowed Lirain to haul him off to dinner.


	18. Interlude

Disclaimer: I don't know why I'm still disclaiming…surely there'd be no point in claiming credit for the idea the eighteenth chapter was based on, if it's already obvious that the same idea the other seventeen chapters were engendered by has already been disclaimed. Still, I disclaim!

This chapter should really be listed as a change of point of view, sort of an interlude, so, since I'm absolute crud at naming chapters, I'll just call in Interlude. Wow, I feel so formal and special. Anyway, onto reviews.

Tenshi: Thanks. I'm sort of working up to something, but I'm mostly just rambling on about Treet and his life, which is pretty fun, lol.

Violet Rush: He'll get around to it eventually. He's still in the hiding from her phase, though. I mean, I would be too.

Wizard: He'll get over it eventually. Still, there had to be a reason he couldn't be a Mindhealer, if I'm sticking to the canon about his character. Lol, there's only about one paragraph in existence about him and I'm still having trouble sticking to it. I don't want Lirain and Treet in training together anyway, because it would be logistically hard for all characters involved.

Fireblade: Lol, I quite liked that phrase myself.

Silentstream: Thanks. I think that would be quite boring to write, myself. I like it better this way.

Anyway, I got really bored in math class and instead of skipping to the next day, which you'd all probably have to wait months for knowing me, I decided to stick in a short chapter about Lirain and Rith. Well, looking back at it, maybe not so short a chapter. Ten pages, my longest ever. I hope it's ok, I wrote most of it in math class, so yeah. Read, review, and learn more about Lirain and Rith. Enjoy!

Chapter 18: Interlude

After leading Treet to dinner and giving one of her fellow Trainees a light kick in the shin and the injunction to try to ensure that Treet didn't get run over by hordes of rampaging and hungry Trainees, Lirain grabbed two of the trays meant for Healers who's duties forced them to eat and run and headed back for Rith's "lair" at an easy jog.

The consequence of afternoons spent leading Treet around was evening lessons, since she had no chores at that hour. She could always study other subjects before she slept, but the hands-on instruction she could get from her teacher was irreplaceable.

Lirain rapped softly at the door with her foot, her full hands preventing her from knocking properly. After a few moments, Rith pulled open the door, looking drained and wan.

"Bad day?" Lirain asked sympathetically as she walked in and sat down.

"Long day. Council meeting this morning, the usual old business being debated back and forth until the councilors go blue in the face, then a meeting of the Healers Circle. Not quite as annoying, but far more tiring, seeing as they actually require my opinion sometimes. I had only a few Candlemarks to spend with actual patients, and many of them need me a lot more than those windbags on the council. I can't treat half the patients who need it, only those the Circle decides are "dangerously unbalanced" and the few of our people who need it, plus my admissions duties." She grimaced. "Sometimes I think it's just too much." She ended with a hand gesture meant to be self-deprecating and humorous but which did little to alter the tired lines etched on her forehead.

Seeing her chance, Lirain shoved one of the steaming trays into Rith's hands. "Don't worry, I'll have my Greens in a couple of years and you know they'll keep me here on permanent assignment, then I'll be able to help you more."

Rith blinked and smiled a little, remembering who she was talking to. Her tone became more businesslike. She never complained, except when exhausted.

"Yes, you will, but if you want me to grant you robes to properly match that hair of yours, we'd better have a lesson tonight. A mostly theoretical one, sadly, since I have no desire to go up to the House of Healing at this hour. That meeting with your Trainee was just the end of it, I'm afraid." Rith closed her eyes, wondering if Lirain would take the bait.

"Was it bad? He didn't say." Lirain asked worriedly, jumping on Rith's words.

"Not bad, necessarily. Still, as soon as I met him, I knew he had a far higher level of Empathy than most Healers, and I saw something about his trip here. Just a flash, mind you, but it's possible that he's a natural Mindhealer. That's why I came down so hard on him. He may well lean naturally towards Mindhealing, but he would be miserable with me as a teacher. I wasn't sure until I saw him, but as soon as I did, I could tell. The way he acted was a dead giveaway. Ideally, he needs a teacher who can teach only him, as well as being physically and mentally approachable. From what I hear, he's a little leery of the full Healers, as well as everyone his own age, except, oddly enough, you." Rith's penetrating gaze rested on Lirain. She had her own suspicions about the relationship between her emerald-haired trainee and the reticent Holderkin boy.

"A natural Mindhealer? What'll happen to him without training, then? Can he do something else?" Lirain asked, ignoring the last comment.

"Oh, he'll be fine. He'll be happy enough in another area of study, and when he's been here a while and isn't quite so traumatized, I'll pull him aside and see about giving him a week or so of fast and dirty training in Mindhealing. It's a great asset to all of the specialties, in fact, I'd say it should be mandatory for all Trainees with an above average Empathy level." Rith maintained.

"But, if he's a natural, shouldn't he be studying Mindhealing?" Lirain asked, still worried.

"Not necessarily. This problem isn't as uncommon as you think. Because of the type of people that become Healers, especially Mindhealers, they can be sensitive or easily traumatized while they're still young. When you get someone like your Tretin, it's better for him to see as little of me as possible for a while, however that might happen to come about. He'll use his own peculiar set of Gifts wherever he goes, that's part of being a Healer. And if he's desperately unhappy, he'll know to come back to me and we'll sort it out, although I'd say he'd have to be in a pretty bad way before he'd do that. Hopefully by the time I get around to training him, he'll be able to stand the sight of me," Rith said, her tone calculatedly acid.

"It's not his fault!" Lirain leapt to Treet's defense. "You should have seen him before he walked in here! He was white as a sheet; I had to shove him through the door! Do you know what you had to do to him? I was there too, I felt it! How can you even act like it's his fault after that?" Lirain was outraged without knowing why. She took deep even breaths, one of her first lessons, repeated the lines she had been taught over and over in her head. 'I will not allow my anger to control me.' How many times had she been forced to write that out in her first year at the Collegium? She almost laughed, equilibrium restored.

Rith would have been angry had she not deliberately goaded Lirain into a response. "Do you think I know not what I do?" She asked in deadly cold that was only partially feigned. "Do you believe that someone with our Gifts could be untouched by that duty? Indeed, that is the reason it falls to us, that there might never be pain without compassion and understanding and that it might fall in equal measure to the giver. You will know too, one day, what it is to suffer through a torment you cannot avoid and cannot ease. Do you truly believe that I do not wonder, every time I see one who looks as your Holderkin boy today if we do the right thing? If it is worth it to pervert our Gifts for the safety of the Collegium and Valdemar itself." Rith spoke truly, if a touch more melodramatically than she intended. She sat quietly, perfectly composed, waiting for a response.

Lirain's face had gone pale. "I…I didn't…" She stuttered, speechless for one of the only times in her life.

"He'll be just fine. He's not the only one to be a bit shaky for his first few moons at the Collegium, nor, I suspect, will he be the last. He's improving slowly, though, I imagine. You left him at dinner? How's he doing alone with all those other Trainees?" Rith asked, firmly changing the subject.

"Oh, he's just fine," Lirain reported automatically. "A little jumpy maybe, but nothing major," she added, her professional assessment ruined by the look of pure shock on her face. She stopped, astonished. "How would I know something like that? I have no idea what he's doing at the moment," she said.

Rith just smiled, "I'm sure I don't know. Maybe your mind is so desperate for something to do that it's making things up. I suggest we occupy it with a lesson. I thought we'd have sort of a mini-lesson today, since both of us are tired. It's not something you'll run into often, which is why I saved it for so long. It's only that you should recognize it when you see it." She paused.

Rith had suspected something odd between Treet and Lirain from the moment they had met. The slight aura irregularity she had seen in each of the Trainees had tipped her off as to the true nature of their relationship. Since the Lifebond was newly formed and unacknowledged by either of the pair, however, the difference was barely palpable, it had taken Rith, who knew one of the pair well, worked constantly with Trainee Healers and had the Gift of Mindhealing to discern the difference. The chances that Lirain would pick up on it without a fairly strong hint were so slight as to be negligible and Treet's were even less.

Rith was really of two minds as to whether Lirain should be told. Treet should definitely not know until he was ready to come to terms with the knowledge, but Lifebonds could be dangerous if left unacknowledged. Rith remembered only too well the tale of the unfortunate shay'a'chern couple that had been younger Trainees in Rith's final year. One with the minimum Empathy that could accompany the Healing Gift and one unused to using her Gifts in any sort of capacity and completely unable to sort through what was coming in. Confused by her feelings for someone she thought she couldn't possibly be in love with according to the strictures of her upbringing, the older Trainee had turned cold and sullen towards her heartbroken Lifebonded, completely ignoring her.

Thinking she had committed the equivalent of a mortal sin and not knowing where to turn, the younger girl had sunk into a deep depression. Nothing of that sort could go unnoticed for long in the Healer's Collegium, of course, but by the time it was brought to the attention of the senior Mindhealer, Rith's teacher, it had taken weeks to pull the girl out of it and still longer to quell the horror aroused when the girl's Lifebonded realized what she had done. That job had fallen to Rith, one of her first real assignments, and for that reason she remembered it especially vividly.

If Lirain was at least made aware of the situation, she could allow the bond to flourish and grow slowly enough that Treet would not be alarmed by it. Still, the knowledge would be a heavy burden to bear, especially alone. Rith had agonized and finally come to the decision to give Lirain all the information she required, in a non-suspicious manner, and allow her to put the pieces together for herself. If she reacted favorably, as was probable, she could be given advice, more information and support. If she showed any signs of an adverse reaction, which was possible from the simple shock of it and the fact that Lirain was not a person who liked to feel railroaded into anything, Rith could deny her suspicion, backing it up with Empathic projection if necessary, although that solution was makeshift at best and would probably cause more problems in the long run than it solved.

Lirain coughed, reminding Rith that they had been sitting there in silence for long moments. Rith looked up, taking a deep breath. Her work this night could decide the immediate future of two lives at least, neither of which was her own.

"Today we're going to have a quick talk about Lifebonds. Even though you don't see them that often, when you do, you should learn to recognize them immediately, because they can be one of the more dangerous emotional disturbances if left unnoticed for too long. Lifebonding has been known to tear people apart from the inside and for all that they can be wondrous things, they can as easily cause tragedy."

Lirain was, as usual, taking notes. It was as likely that a fairly broad hint would be necessary before she saw any personal application.

"If you end up with a severely unbalanced patient, which, given the extreme shortage of our Gift, is mostly everyone you'll treat, you may find, when you begin to probe, that their discomfort is centered around another person. This could be a normal crush or love affair; you'll have to talk to both parties to ascertain that. If you have a person who is completely obsessed, beyond all sense, dreams about a certain person constantly, will do anything to be in their presence, anything like that, that is a good clue but still inconclusive. There are, however, two main ways that you can tell if you're dealing with a Lifebond. The first involves a fairly deep probing, so I don't recommend it. However, if you have reason to be far inside the patient's mind anyway, you can check for a connection of some kind going outwards rather than somewhere else within the mind. If you see that, especially on the subconscious level, that's a pretty good clue you have a Lifebond. The other, less invasive way is mainly only good for a Lifebond unacknowledged by one or both of the parties. It's fairly easy and extremely non-invasive to read auras, every Trainee learns it as soon as they get here, practically, although only Mindhealers learn the nuances. If you see an aura that is somehow bent out of shape or twisted, one that doesn't conform to the contours of the person's body, a Lifebond is probably what you have, since it's one of the only things that can totally warp an aura."

"How does that work?" Lirain asked, fascinated. She had always been taught that someone's aura was the truest way of reading them, that it was incredibly hard to change or disguise.

"It's rather simple, really," Rith said; glad to see that her student was paying attention. "A Lifebond isn't in any way inert. If you're Lifebonded to someone, you want to go to that person, in fact you need them. In some cases, it can cause both mental and emotional pain to be away from them, and that even if both are aware of the bond. If both parties aren't aware, they don't go to the person in the way that they want to, so their aura tries to go for them. It basically does its best to reach for the other person's aura and forge a proper Lifebond, which can't be done without both of the pair acknowledging what's going on. Otherwise, you get something equally potent, but somehow not whole. I'm not Lifebonded, so I can't describe it any better. If you could find a Healer or Herald who was and ask them, they'd give you a better idea," Rith said. "Oh! A word about Heralds. Lifebonds are rare in the general population, but somewhat less rare in Heralds. Also, given the Companions and the type of people that are Chosen, if there is even a suspicion of a Lifebond, it is even more important than most times to find and deal with, because when Heralds fall, they fall hard, and that's about the only time you'll see them in here for anything other than injury. Self-sufficient and hardheaded in the extreme. Lifebonds are also slightly more common in the Bardic and Healer ranks as well. I've quite often thought it's our compensation from the Havens for the difficulty of the work we do." Rith said casually.

Lirain smiled at the thought of Herald Karissa voluntarily entering the House of Healing. If she could be taken as an example of your typical Herald, not that any of them were typical, it would certainly take a great deal to coerce one past those doors. She then yawned widely, it had been a long day, but at least she had gotten to see Treet, for a while.

Rith figured that the seed of thought had been planted. She couldn't push too hard. She refused to ask herself whether she couldn't or she wouldn't. Instead, she smiled at Lirain. "I told you it was a short lesson. I wasn't sure if you would come across it on your own or not, but now that you know, there isn't much left to say. We both need sleep and I suggest we get it. I'll see you tomorrow morning, no excuses about your Trainee, either. You can have the afternoon off of studying if you wish, but there are a couple of cases I'd like you to see."

"Of course," Lirain agreed, thinking that she'd at least have the afternoon. "Sleep well now, teacher."

"I'll probably do that right here, actually. Off you go so that I can sleep." Rith said, carefully implying where she would be if anything came up.

"Certainly," Lirain said, shutting the door and beginning the walk back to her room. Perhaps she'd put off that studying a little while for some other reading.

Once in her room, she pulled a heavy blue textbook off of her bookshelf. A cardinal Mindhealing text, it was necessary gear for every Trainee Mindhealer, or so she had been told.

She flipped it open to the index and began to leaf through to L.

_ Lifebonding_

_ Symptoms of….86-87_

_ Occurrence….54_

_ Misdiagnosis of….6_

Humming, Lirain flipped to the first page listed, skimming past the sections on aura reading and deep probing to the section on alternative methods of diagnosis.

"Feelings of tugging towards another person, obsessive or possessive feelings, odd dreams occurring at least ten times per moon, often more frequently, difficulty concentrating, sometimes depression, no interest in love affairs or sexual encounters, feeling numb or cold around other people, feelings of being unsettled or disconcerted" she muttered to herself as she read. "Hard to mistake those." She yawned again and decided that reading hadn't been such a good idea.

She lay down, preparing for her nightly ritual of meditation and settling of the mind. Projective Empaths had to be especially concerned with keeping their emotions inside their minds where they belonged.

After a few minutes of steady breathing, she reached for her center and blinked confusedly. For the first time in over a year, she couldn't find the steady, stable place that marked the center of her power. She had noticed it shift a tiny bit each night recently, but she had been warned of that happening as she came into her power and had paid it no mind. As long as she could still find it, everything was fine. Reflexively, she checked her shields. Still up, molding themselves as they should, almost, yet something was not quite right. She didn't panic, felt nothing but slight confusion.

Remembering Rith's lesson and the many that had preceded it, she knew that aura reading was the most reliable indicator or emotional state. Even the Ungifted could feel auras, although they mostly said that people were radiating emotion, when in fact they were only inadvertently projecting it through their auras.

She quickly slipped out of her half trance and tried to read her own aura, slightly harder than reading someone else's, somewhat like trying to see the back of your head. Eventually, she got a clear focus and frowned. Something was definitely not right. Instead of molding to her body, her aura, a cool green as always, rippled away in some places, especially near her torso.

Unbidden, Rith's words came back to her. _"If you see an aura that is somehow bent out of shape or twisted, one that doesn't conform to the contours of the person's body, a Lifebond is probably what you have"_

"A Lifebond?" She gasped. "Impossible!" She had no idea what else it could be, though the idea was absurd. She ran through the checklist from her textbook. "Tugging? Well, maybe somewhat, but only towards Treet. It's probably only the feeling of being needed. Odd dreams? Come to think of it, yes." By that point, Lirain was more surprised than shocked. She got up again, pulled on her Trainee Greens and left, barely remembering not to bang the door behind her. If anyone could sort out this mess, it would be Rith.

When she finally made it to Rith's office, she was panting and out of breath. She ran her hands reflexively through her hair and knocked as gently as she could on the door. Within a few moments, Rith opened it, blinking sleepily. "Oh, Lirain! What's the matter?"

Not usually prone to panic, Lirain found the feeling of terror she was experiencing unfamiliar and therefore frightening in and of itself. In fact, she was behaving more like Treet than herself, she thought ruefully. Not that she minded it in him, he certainly had cause. In herself, a fairly well trained Mindhealer, such panic was unacceptable. She took a few deep breaths, quelling the rising fear before she spoke.

"I probably shouldn't have woken you, I probably overreacted," she said, laughing in a way that sounded high and forced to her own ears. "Something's wrong, but it could have waited, I suppose. I tried to meditate the way I always do before bed, but for the first time since, well, it seems like forever, I couldn't balance enough to find my center, and you aren't supposed to lose it once you have it!" She said, her voice rising in a wail. "It's been shifting a little recently, but never so violently."

Lirain's hands were shaking, so she clasped them behind her back. After so long, not finding her center was like waking up without a leg, having no idea where it had gone or what had happened to cause it to vanish.

Rith felt her training and experience push her to let them take over. She was itching to project calm, soothing emotions, but she firmly squashed the impulse. She couldn't allow her projections to tint this meeting, if she wanted a true reading of Lirain's reactions.

She settled for her best calm, in-control-Healer voice. "I see. Have you noticed anything else?" She asked, looking appropriately puzzled.

"The first thing I did was check on my aura, especially after that whole lesson earlier, and it was wrong. Not the lesson, the aura. It sort of rippled away from my body in places, exactly like you mentioned today. Then, well," she blushed. "I looked up Lifebonds in my text and some of the symptoms sounded not too far off, but, I mean, that's ridiculous. So I ran down here. I guess I panicked," she admitted shamefacedly.

"I see," Rith said neutrally. "So, what do you think?" She queried, unwilling to push.

"The only thing that's changed recently, apart from my center and aura, that is, is Treet. I don't suppose I'd mind being Lifebonded to him, really. In fact, I'd like it, not that I seriously think I am. Am I?" She asked, looking pleadingly at Rith for an explanation.

Rith gave up. She was entwined with this affair for better or for worse, and Lirain was her student, in some ways, her daughter. "Lirain," she said solemnly. "I think you may very well be Lifebonded to Tretin."

"Lifebonded?" She asked in shock. Or, at least, she thought she should be shocked. Inside, however, she felt as though she had always known. If it had been an issue of being tied together with someone else for the rest of her life and beyond, she might have been upset, but Treet was nothing like that. He was like some long-lost splinter of her soul, and she no longer felt fear. Well, maybe that was overstating the case a bit, she thought to herself wryly, but she was certainly no longer crippled by the debilitating terror she had previously felt.

"Yes," Rith agreed calmly. "Lifebonded." She devoutly hoped that Lirain wouldn't realize that she had known beforehand.

"You knew, didn't you? That lesson today." It wasn't a question.

Rith sighed; she should have expected that she couldn't keep that secret for long. "Yes, I knew. I just couldn't tell you. I haven't been certain for long, only since I saw you go into trance with that patient yesterday. I thought I'd let you figure it out on your own, in case you weren't ready to know."

To Rith's relief, Lirain accepted that statement. "What about Treet? What will he think?" She could imagine him being slightly bewildered by the prospect, but she couldn't imagine him not being as joyful as she in the end.

"I don't suppose we'll find out for a while, at any rate," Rith said as gently as she could. "Lirain, you really mustn't tell him. He's not yet been here for a moon, he's never even known about regular love, never mind the ache of a Lifebond, and he's not particularly well settled in as it is. If you weren't so well trained, it's unlikely you would have noticed the difference in your center. He'll just assume he's adjusting and find his center again. The other Healers won't say anything if I have a word with them."

"Not tell him!" Lirain exclaimed. "He'd be happy, I know he would. Do you think he wouldn't care for me? I thought Lifebonds didn't work that way!"

"He certainly feels for you exactly as you do about him, or he would, if he knew how to recognize what he's likely feeling. Since he doesn't, telling him would only make him confused and bewildered, as well as insecure. It's honestly not particularly healthy for most adolescents to be caught up in a Lifebond. You're mature enough to handle it right now. If he'd been here longer, he probably would be too, but as it is, you'll have to keep it from him a little longer."

Lirain flopped back in her chair. "Why did you tell me, then?" She asked miserably.

Now was the time to go to her, Rith knew. From most people, any sort of pity would not be permissible, Lirain could be extremely proud, but from Rith, it was endured. She sat down on the chair and patted Lirain's hand. "I know it's hard. I told you because one of you has to regulate the thing as it develops and grows, and as a Mindhealer and the better trained of you two, you are the obvious choice. You certainly aren't being stopped from showing affection or caring, and as you see the bond grow, you can use your own judgment about how to slowly get Treet used to the link. As his Lifebonded, young as you are, you can probably tell best. Once the bond has grown a bit, you can tell him, but until then, you must keep it to yourself. I'll be here to help and advise, and I have complete faith in you."

Lirain sighed. "As long as I know he cares for me, I suppose I'll manage. After all, a few hours ago, I didn't even know that much."

"You'll have that, and more, Lirain, if only you can be patient. Now, I think it would be best for you to sleep on this. You know I'm here if you have questions in the morning."

Lirain smiled her best smile. "I know. Thank you, Rith."

"You're welcome."


	19. More Healers

Disclaimer: I disclaim all responsibility for whatever horrible writing may follow. I also disclaim the idea this fic was based on, since it belongs to Mercedes Lackey.

I'm trying to post chapters more often, but I'm busy a great deal, so bear with me and keep the reviews coming, please.

Violet Rush: Thanks! I'll do my best.

Fireblade: Yup, it sure does. Mine was down all last week, so I had to use the library computers, what a drag! I totally sympathize. And yes, Treet does rule, and he's coming back.

Wizard: Thanks, I'll try not to.

Tenshi: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about her. She's off somewhere in the nether regions of Valdemar, but she'll be back in time for the next major crisis.

Rhyia: Thanks!

Lurks in Shadows: Yup, she sure is. I'm trying to work on her relationship with Treet, though. Sometimes, it seems as though she treats him as a child, not her Lifebonded.

Oceanmate: Thanks, I liked that chapter myself. Yeah, it was pretty obvious; mostly everyone saw that little "twist" coming.

Shadowbolt: Yup, I know. Healers rock my socks.

Anyway, taking into account the comment from one of the recent chapters about independent studying, I'm tweaking that part a bit for the younger Trainees, so excuse me while I screw with the previously set down system.

This chapter's switching back to Treet, and it's just another let's hunt down a Healer and see what it does style chapter, but once I get through all those, we'll have more action again, and I'm planning a large and less predictable plot twist for Midwinter, when we get there.

Enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review!

Chapter 19: More Healers

Treet spent his next morning wandering aimlessly around the Collegium in the direction of the library. He still had to pick a topic for his first moon's study report and get it approved by Healer Josh. So that there wasn't a great demand by the entire Collegium for the same books, the Trainees were supposed to cycle through the subjects in an order arranged by Yeargroup.

He got to the library just in time for the beginning of the shortened Orientation he was to have that day. Josh greeted them in a friendly manner as they took their seats around what seemed to have become their usual table.

"I haven't mentioned this yet," he began, "because I wanted to get all of you used to the idea of independent study. You'll end up doing it eventually, never fear. Now that you've wrapped your minds around it, however, I shall impart more information. Although you still have the option to study on your own, and you will most likely prefer that when your schedules get more hectic, you also have the option of taking classes at the Heraldic Collegium. The Bards modify their curriculum specially and tend to stick to their own Collegium for classes, but we Healers aren't as fussy, and the basic classes over there are very good. You can take morning classes in History, Politics, Mathematics and a bunch of other stuff that will see you nicely through your first few years here if you're so inclined. If, once you choose a mentor, you end up with an extremely odd schedule or hours, or if you just prefer not to have formal classes for some reason, you'll want to continue to work alone, but, be warned, as I have said, your reports will be expected to show a clear indication of learning. Now, at the end of this week, once you get your schedules worked out, I'll take sign-ups for classes with the next Yeargroup of Heraldic Trainees. All of you will be responsible for a report of your learning over the first moon, but after you start formal classes, if you do, we'll trust the Heralds to keep you in line."

Treet looked around at his Yearmates and saw that a good few of them were talking excitedly. Healers were well known in Valdemar, but Heralds were legendary, or so Treet gathered.

Soon after that announcement, the class was released to begin research. Their first assigned topic was the early history of Valdemar, so Treet gravitated toward the history section and stayed there, leafing through books, until the warning bell rang for lunch.

When he heard the lunch bell, he walked to the dining hall with a group of his Yearmates and grabbed a seat, quickly looking around to see if he could spot Lirain. When he saw her, he waved in what he hoped was a fairly dignified and not over-eager manner, and she smiled abstractedly, grabbing a tray and heading in his direction. To Treet, she seemed decidedly displeased about something.

When she reached him, she ran her hand rather distractedly through her hair and said "you'd better not get too comfortable, we've to see Healer Sera today and she's outrageously busy this afternoon, or so she says, so she said come see her during the midday meal. I forgot to tell you yesterday," she said contritely. "We'll eat on the way. Here, I brought you a cheese and sausage roll."

Treet took it. It was rather not what he had been hoping for in terms of a midday meal, but it was still warm, and he supposed it would have to do. He figured he'd have to get used to eating on the fly if he was to be a Healer.

"Lirain?" Treet asked, suddenly remembering something. "My schedule says that for the first week, I have dishwashing. Won't I miss it?"

"No," Lirain said. "Your schedule doesn't start until you have an assigned teacher, in case he or she has to request major changes. The older Trainees take all the dishwashing and such until next week." She grimaced. "Being a new Trainee has its advantages."

After that, they walked outside and onto the palace grounds, munching in silence. As the last crumb disappeared, they crossed the threshold that marked the doorway of the House of Healing and walked into the large entrance hall. Lined with benches along every wall, it was mainly a place for duty Healers who couldn't afford to miss any new cases coming in to catch a quick nap during a lull, for everyone entering the House of Healing passed by those benches. At that particular point, there were many Healers either napping sitting up or flopped full out on the bench of their choice.

"Like the Heralds," Lirain said, "we are rather overworked at the moment, which is why you see so many Healers sleeping. Lots of them are working double or even triple shifts, or, like Rith, are constantly on call." Lirain stepped forwards and stood on the tips of her toes, peering around the room. "There's Healer Sera now."

The aforementioned Sera was not quite sprawled on one of the benches. Instead, she had opted for sitting with her head against the wall and her eyes half-lidded.

She was younger than Rith by a good few years, with hair that a Bard might have called flaxen, but that Sera herself was more likely to pass off as straw-colored. Likewise, she seemed completely unconscious of the silent beauty and grace that she was endowed with.

As Treet and Lirain reached her, she blinked sleepily and opened her eyes just as Lirain was about to cough to announce their presence. She had a level, direct gaze that seemed to bore into Treet with green-eyed intensity. She blinked again and the feeling receded, leaving only a direct gaze that invited trust and spoke of reliability.

Her Greens were spotless, if slightly rumpled, and the green sash she wore around her waist was belted askew. Although she was as scrupulously clean as all Healers, Sera was somewhat less concerned with her outward appearance. Luckily for her and for the public's image of the Healer, she was one of the few that didn't need to be.

The only time her hair could be said to take on a life of its own, as Lirain's did so often, was when it conspired to lie in a sleek, flat waterfall as Sera bolted out of her bed as some obscene Candlemark of the night to attend to some emergency or another. That, Lirain thought wryly, was something of a miracle. Luckily, the emerald hue of her own hair distracted anyone from looking closer than the color.

Where Lirain's hair was fairly long, however, Sera's was cut short in a gleaming helmet that fell just past her ears. She had kept it long as a Trainee, her last and only concession to vanity, but as she had taken on the robes of a full Healer, it had been shorn off so as not to get in the way.

"Hello, Lirain," she said wearily. "I see you're shepherding a new Trainee around?" She smiled at Treet to show she meant no offense.

"Something like that," Lirain said. "This is Tretin. Treet, this is Sera, one of our senior trauma Healers."

They shook hands, somewhat incongruously, Treet felt, given the informality of the situation, and Lirain turned to leave. "As I mentioned, I have the honor of washing the lunch dishes today, so I had better be going. I'll see you again tomorrow, Treet," she added, smiling slightly foolishly and attempting to make up for it by turning on her heel in an overly sharp fashion and striding quickly towards the exit.

Treet and Sera stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, or rather; Treet stared awkwardly at Sera while Sera simply studied him, waiting for him to say something.

After a while, Treet laughed a little self-consciously and said, "So, you're a trauma Healer?" It was an attempt to start a normal sounding dialogue, but after it was said, Treet mentally berated himself for the awkwardness with which it had been said and the pretentious sound of the phrase.

Sera stretched, pulling her robes tighter around herself as she arose. "That I am. First, though, I've heard you called by two different names so far. Which do you prefer, Treet or Tretin?"

Treet was a little amazed that she had noticed such a small thing while seemingly half asleep. "Treet, please. Only my family calls…called me Tretin." He looked down for a moment, then up again, resolving to put his family behind him.

Sera politely ignored that comment, storing it away for future reference, and continued lightly, "Well, Treet, it's a little crowded in here, and since you're not officially my student, I can't take you into the actual House of Healing, how about a walk? I've been in here since far too early this morning." She wrinkled her nose engagingly and began to lead Treet outside.

As they walked out into the fresh air and greenery that made up the palace grounds, Sera turned to Treet. "So, I'll just tell you a little bit about what I do, and if you have any questions, you can ask them, sound good?"

Treet nodded.

"Alright. Apart from abominable hours, my job means that you can be called out of your bed at any hour of the night, even more so than most Healers. You see a lot of death and destruction, again more so than most Healers, but that's just the downside. I'll be straight with you, it can be very hard, but if your talents are so inclined, it can be a very rewarding field. What I do, specifically, is deal with patients who have had sudden, violent injuries inflicted, usually accompanied by shock. That's the basic rundown. If you decide to study with me, you'll work hard, but all Trainees do, it's part of life as a Healer. You'll learn applications of your Gift, how to act quickly and decisively in a situation where every second matters, how to deal with nervous relatives and nervous, conscious patients as well as the unconscious kind. It sounds daunting now, but I'll leave you to make the final choice without pushing either way. Anyway, that's my basic summary. Do you have any questions?"

Treet tried to take in all the information. The rapid-fire barrage of facts had left him more than slightly overwhelmed. "Are you always this direct?" He ventured.

Sera laughed aloud. "Direct? Yes, I generally am, but if you're asking do I teach like this, the answer is no. I've had Trainees before, and I know that fast isn't always better in that regard. I'm on a tight schedule today, have been for a while, that's all."

"Oh," Treet said, amazed at his own daring to question an adult's mode of speech. "I don't have any more questions, then."

"Good," Sera paused. "If you change your mind, Lirain can probably find me. Now, if you'll excuse me?"

It wasn't really a question. Treet nodded anyway.

"You can see the buildings from here, walk straight left and you'll get back to the library eventually," Sera added before walking at a fast clip back towards the House of Healing.

Treet was inclined to like Sera, even if she was a little intimidating, but he was determined not to think about it too hard until he met all of the Healers he was supposed to.

Putting it firmly out of his mind, he headed for the library, muttering about foreign policy in the time of Elspeth Peacemaker.


	20. Compacted Healers

Disclaimer: If, in the long time since I updated, you somehow forgot that I don't own anything except my characters, allow me to remind you. If not, well, yeah.

Chapter 20! This is my longest story yet, although that isn't saying much. I'll be sad when it's over and it won't be long now. I'd say we're at least two thirds of the way done. I have no idea what I'll write next, but that's another problem for another time. Anyway, reviews.

Wizard: I know. It's probably going to be like that for a while, because I'm sort of going through a bunch of people that he needs to meet to give him a chance to develop both his personality and his relationship with Lirain. I know it must be a little boring to read, but there aren't too many to go. And the midwinter twist will be action packed and completely implausible, so don't worry. I'll have some fun with poor Treet soon.

Tenshi: She's not bad, I quite like her myself. And dishwashing officially stinks, although I don't do it for a living, thank goodness.

Fireblade: Yeah, he is. I was trying to stay away from the Talia wallowing in isolation for months and months plotline. And hmm…that's not a bad idea. In fact, it would fit in nicely with my planned wild adventure…

Violet Rush: Oh, I guess I didn't make that clear enough. He isn't destined for Rith. Or rather, he might have been, but circumstances conspired against him. I'm sticking to what little canon there is on his character, he's with Sera all the way.

Chibi Chingo: Thanks!

Dragonborn: Thanks for the review! As to your first two criticisms, you're entirely right, I did fudge the facts a bit, although I didn't notice at the time. I'll have to call it artistic license, I'm afraid. As to your point about Lifebonds, however, I firmly believe that there is no one particular way they "work" because that seems to me to be part of the magic.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling and try to actually write something. Hopefully I'll manage to update this soon…

I hope you guys don't think these bits of exposition are way too boring. I know it's really slow now, and they are all mostly the same, but I sort of feel like they have to happen? If anyone gets what I'm trying to do?

Yeah, I don't know if I like this chapter. It has some very good parts and some equally awful parts, in my opinion. With that, I'll leave you to form yours. Enjoy!

Chapter 20: Compacted Healers

Lirain snuck up behind Treet, who was, once again, engrossed in something that looked dry enough to need the entire Terilee poured over it in order to make it palatable. Well, it looked as though she was sneaking up on him, anyway. She knew better than that, and she didn't know if she could do it anyway. Something to try when he trusted her a little more, she thought with a slight grimace.

She stood over him and sent a small burst of Empathy that would have roughly translated as 'I'm standing behind you and I'm very happy to see you' had it been in MindSpeech or even regular speech.

Treet looked up and grinned, then tried to stifle it. With a grateful look in Lirain's direction, he shut the book and shoved his page of notes into his pocket. "I take it we have another appointment to fulfill?" He asked. "At least I got to have lunch this time."

"You aren't supposed to spend all of your time in the library, you know," Lirain said, glaring at him in mock seriousness.

Treet looked shifty for a minute, trying to cover it by rising in a great flurry of his slightly large robes. "Well, research reports and all."

Lirain looked skeptical but let the matter slide. As they walked down the hallway, she recalled Rith's words about slowly getting him used to her affection for him, if it could be called that. She extended her considerable Empathy as she simultaneously extended her hand in his direction, both actions as natural as breathing to her.

She firmly quashed the impulse to project 'don't notice what I'm doing' vibes and slowly inched her hand closer.

"Actually, we're going to finish up with these introduction or interview type things today," Lirain said. "The Heralds have a new Yeargroup that they're about ready to start and so the powers that be want your Yeargroup in harness in time for some of you to join them in classes. Healers are easy to find anyways, they're always in the same place, the House of Healing."

She paused, her hand almost touching Treet's. "I prefer it this way anyway. It gets me another afternoon off of classes."

Treet opened his mouth to say something, but Lirain seized the opportunity and gently enfolded Treet's hand in her own, continuing to chatter gaily as if nothing had happened. "Not that I don't enjoy lessons, of course. But lessons are lessons, and afternoons off, well, aren't."

Treet froze for a moment, almost telegraphing uncertainty. He kept walking, but he quickly looked up at Lirain to see what she was doing. When he saw that her face was carefully blank, with no sign of aggression or planned entrapment, he relaxed into the gesture. He didn't really care why she had done it, just the fact that she had was enough to make him feel more together than he had in weeks. He relaxed his hand and daringly closed his fingers around hers. She turned her head and smiled, but made no other acknowledgement.

They reached the House of Healing too soon for Treet. Lirain, too, seemed reluctant as she untwined her fingers from where they had been lying in Treet's. That could as easily have been his imagination, of course.

As they entered, she nudged him gently. "I ought to remind you, I think I mentioned this before. The first Healer we're going to see, Healer Trent. He may seem a little, well, intimidating at first. He's naturally rather dour. He treats people who have life-long illnesses. Oops, here he is. Remember, don't let him scare you." She gave Treet's hand a final squeeze and moved away, rather pleased with herself.

Trent was short for an adult, his head almost level with Treet's own. He held himself with such authority, however, that Treet was convinced that he towered over everyone in the room. When he spoke his voice was resonant but low, and he seemed like the type that was eternally displeased with something. Not in a way that signified arrogance, but simply as a sign of a perpetual drive for perfection.

He squinted a little at Treet and then stuck his hand out, tilting his head to the side a little as he introduced himself. "Healer Trent. Disease specialist. Want the speech?"

Treet was amazed. Trent certainly wasted no words! Treet nodded silently, figuring he might as well, although he wasn't sure he would want a teacher as, well, DOUR as Trent was. In this case, Lirain's word had been accurate to perfection!

"I work with people who have long-term diseases. Some of them, I can Heal, but most of them, I can't. A lot of my work is slowing down the disease or confining it to one area of the body. It's hard work. Diseases are fighters, they live to spread, even more so than other illnesses. Sometimes you can spend all your energy on one only to find that it is expanding again as soon as you loosen your grip. For all that, I find it rewarding, and we need all the trained help we can get."

He nodded once. "Any questions?" He asked, in a tone indicating that it would be wise to answer in the negative.

Treet shook his head again, and Trent turned and left. Never mind dour, brusque was more the word that came to mind now.

Lirain joined Treet, steering him across the room and smiling a little. "Don't mind Trent. He's a little…hmm…introverted? He's really quite amicable once you get to know him. I've seen him sit up all night with an ailing patient who was in the last stages of something nasty and didn't even know he was there. He pours all his energy into his work and expects the same of everyone else. Little appreciation for the art of social contact, that's Trent." She laughed a little, wiping away her former somber expression. "Don's a sweetheart, though. You'll like him. The entire Collegium does. It's often he gets called away from his real job to deal with the children that come in, he has a touch for littles. There he is now, in fact."

Treet looked up to see that they were approaching a desk. Just beyond it, a man with short, tousled hair was kneeling down next to a small girl. Her thumb was firmly in her mouth and she was hiding behind a woman who was probably her mother, given the resemblance.

Lirain motioned to Treet to look in the other direction before the girl spotted him. He could barely hear the thread of conversation. The woman was apparently trying to convince her daughter to come out and "let the nice healer see what he could do for her cough". The girl was having none of it.

To Treet's bewilderment, the girl wasn't dragged off by her ear as someone in his family would have been if caught refusing doctoring. Of course, they rarely had actual Healers, being insular in the extreme, but the old woman who did the Holding's herb craft wouldn't have stood for a little refusing to take her medicines!

Don nodded and started to speak to the little girl quietly. To Treet's further amazement, after a few moments, she shook her head bashfully and stepped out from behind her mother. Don extended his hand and the girl popped her thumb out of her mouth and shyly placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her deeper into the House of Healing, her rather shocked looking mother trailing behind.

Lirain sat down on one of the unoccupied benches, motioning Treet to sit next to her. "He'll be back in a while," she said, yawning. Late night lessons and curiously disturbed sleep had left her lethargic and tired, although not quite so much as she made out.

Blinking slowly, she let her head hang down towards her chest, then gently leant towards Treet, pillowing her head on his shoulder.

Treet stiffened as Lirain appeared to fall asleep on top of him. In reality, she was carefully monitoring his reaction, but she feigned sleep rather convincingly. Treet forced himself to relax, breathing as deeply as he could. He began to forget that she was another person, never mind on his shoulder, and simply observe her beauty. The thick tresses that fell on his robes reached just below his shoulder, short as they were. Their emerald color was just a few shades away from that of his pale attire. As she breathed, her breath made her hair sway and dance across Treet's chest and he thought she looked utterly angelic as true sleep smoothed the mischief from her face. For the first time, Treet saw her not as someone with vastly superior training and knowledge, but as a young adult his own age. He relaxed still more, careful not to let Lirain's head slip.

Don's emergence and his cheerful farewell to the girl and her mother from before penetrated Treet's trance like the other noise in the room had not. He started a little, wondering what to do. Lirain was, of necessity, a light sleeper, and even Treet's small movement catapulted her into wakefulness. She shook herself a little, ridding her mind of the last blur of sleep and looked up at Treet fondly, caught in an unguarded moment. Treet smiled then confusedly realized that he had had a girl sleeping on him for the better part of a Candlemark, judging by the time candle ensconced just above him. Slightly confused, he coughed a little. "I think that's that Healer we were looking for?"

Called back to reality for the second time in as many minutes, Lirain looked around. "Oh, yes. He looks like he's not too busy right now." She stood on the bench and waved, ignoring the odd glances some shot her way. Don grinned, recognizing her and assuming that the Trainee she had in tow was Treet. He threaded his way towards them and Lirain gave Treet a small shove. "Go on, now. You know I'm not allowed to be with you by now, so you'd better intercept him or he'll have forgotten that rule and want to gossip. He's bad as a girl that way." She grinned.

Treet wandered dreamily in that general direction and, unbeknownst to Treet, Lirain watched him equally dreamily. This did not go unnoticed by Don, but he said nothing.

When Treet reached him, Dom smiled welcomingly, his honey brown eyes lighting. His voice was low, like Trent's had been, but it was rather like balm on a bruise, soothing rather than acerbic. It flowed, honey soft, like the Terilee in springtime.

"I'm Don. I do illnesses. Coughs, colds. You might say I'm a souped-up village hedge witch." He laughed a little at that assessment of himself. "As you may have heard from our darling Trent, the things that invade our bodies are some of the hardest to get rid of and by the time people come to a Healer, they can be well progressed. If you study with me, you'll learn how to use your power to burn them out, basically. Sounds far more violent than it is, I assure you. The greatest risk is that you become infected yourself, but most of us manage well enough and you'd have the best of care if you did fall sick with something you couldn't Heal yourself. We lose patients sometimes, but no more than any other branch, on the whole. Just something those of our calling have to learn to deal with." A sadness in Don's soft eyes showed that it was not so easy as all that, but he continued. "We see a lot of children. People who won't bring themselves in here for a burning fever will go to any lengths to see their little darlings safe." The sentence could have been malice from anyone else, but from Don, it was simply fact.

Treet nodded thoughtfully, something he seemed to be doing a lot of. Suddenly, the wail of a small child was heard, and the rising entreaties of a female Healer struggled with them for air space. Don smiled briefly. "My unofficial duty calls. If you need anything else, you can always find me around here. Follow the wails."

With those flippant words and a swish of his robes, Don was off at a rather amazing speed, leaving Treet rather shell-shocked. Lirain came up behind Treet, silent as ever. "I told you Don was a sweetheart. The brattiest littles turn into absolute paragons of virtue around him. It's like a Wild Talent or something."

Treet smiled. Don had certainly seemed affable, but Treet couldn't imagine doing so much work with children.

Like some kind of possessed whirlwind, Lirain was off again, leaving Treet little time to contemplate what had happened that day so far. Robes flying, she dragged Treet into yet another corner of the House of Healing, catching up with a dusky woman obviously on her way out for a lunch break. Her dark, curly hair bobbed slightly in the wind that blew from the open door, but she listened readily to Lirain's introduction, after which Lirain pointedly stepped back and Treet stepped forward.

Ria, as this Healer was called, lead him gently away from the door they were blocking and sat down with him on yet another one of those ubiquitous benches.

"I guess you've learned by now that we all have a little set piece we do for the Trainees we meet," she said wryly.

Treet smiled timidly at her and nodded. "Useful, that," he ventured.

"Exceedingly. Since you realize that, I'm sure you won't mind listening to mine," she said with a wicked grin.

"I'm what's known as a general Healer. We do anything and everything, really. Substituting in a pinch when someone of the correct specialty can't be found and taking care of things that aren't serious enough to warrant a specialist. We don't meddle with Rith's patients, overworked though the poor woman is, but that's about the only sphere we stay out of."

Treet winced a little at the name, but said nothing.

"We're also the ones that get sent out roaming and assigned to temples and such like. Being stationed with a village isn't so bad. If you're one of the ones that want to go back home to be stationed near your parents, I'm the one you want to train under. Otherwise, well, I'll leave you to decide whether Healing the tiny sniffles of the nobility is for you," she ended sarcastically.

Treet smiled to himself. It would be a raider-less winter on the Border before he decided to be stationed with his family. Not that they would have him, he thought with a small sigh of regret. He turned his attention back to Ria, who was just finishing up her speech.

"As I'm sure you've heard at least fifty times today, if you come up with any questions, Lirain can find me, or you can. I'm always around. This whole rigmarole is more to actually meet your possible teachers rather than to learn a whole lot, I suspect. Wise of the Circle, that. Now, if there isn't anything pressing, I was just heading out for lunch."

Treet nodded at the clear dismissal in her tone and wandered off to find Lirain, trying to put off his immanent choice of teacher. He would be up half the night trying to decide, vacillating between one and the other, he just knew it.


	21. Choices

Disclaimer: No…I'm still not Mercedes Lackey…woe is me…

Chapter 21 is here, hopefully a little faster than the last one…-cringes- Or not, a month later. I know, I stink, big time.

Fireblade: Yeah, I guess he's a little like the Alberich of the Healer's Collegium :D I don't know if Healers have wild parties, though. Such a shame :D

Wizard: Thanks! Yeah, if you've read Brightly Burning and know the background on his character, you can guess.

Tessabe: Thanks, but I'm glad to be moving on with the plot now. I felt like the entire thing was stagnating before my very eyes.

Oceanmate: It always does, doesn't it :D

Lurks in Shadows: It wouldn't surprise me if a couple bits were a bit awkward. I was combining what I meant to be a few different chapters into one, so I imagine the transitions were a little odd at times. Sorry about that.

Tenshi: Thanks, Trent is coolness. I have to steal some of these characters for another fic after this one is done, or maybe a couple of one-shots. I like a lot of them, but they cant all be main characters, unfortunately.

FormerlyKnownAsPhoenix: Thanks. Yeah, he interested me from when I first read about him, and I like Healers.

VioletRush: Thanks! And yes, he is. Although I'm finding I like some of the other Healers I created too much to let go of.

Xiann: Yes, I meant it that way. I felt my last story was a little rushed. I'm glad you liked it, though.

Moondance K'treva: Thanks! I'm glad you like it.

Trallgorda: I'm always glad for more readers. Thanks!

Anyway, mass drama as our young protagonist takes his fate in his hands and decides on a teacher. It's not Rith, by the way. Even I couldn't turn out enough simultaneously angst-filled, terrified and humiliated scenes to make that one work. Not that I wouldn't have fun trying, but I'm so not going there.

Pol and Satiran make a slight cameo in this chapter, hopefully not too OoC.

I don't know if I like the end of this chapter. Be prepared for a PoV switch and assorted character rambling. It'll get better, I promise.

Chapter 21: Choices

Treet added the last flourish to his first moon's report, tying it with twine. He would present it to the Dean tomorrow. He shuddered at the thought and forced his attention to the last task of the night, choosing a teacher. Neat little attribute lists were all well and good, but with balls of rejected theories and hierarchies littering the ground around him, he was beginning to despise each and every one of the seemingly affable Healers that paraded through his mind in a never-ending loop.

Then he decided to try a different tack. He would eliminate the Healers one by one, instead of extolling their virtues and wasting parchment with useless lists.

He knew exactly where to start that time. The thought of being Rith's student was laughable, however pleasant training near Lirain would be. He wrote off that possibility with only the smallest pang of regret.

Trent was another one that he could eliminate fairly easily. Deft as the man might be, as high as his standing might be in his chosen field, Treet was fairly certain that a moon of afternoon lessons with the pragmatic and enigmatic Healer would drive him into Rith's arms, and probably as a patient rather than a student!

Between three remaining Healers, Don, Sera and Ria, Treet was a little more ambivalent. All had seemed interesting and fairly convivial.

'This is where things get confusing,' he thought to himself. 'Am I supposed to be choosing based on the subject or based on the person, or some bizarre amalgamation of the two?'

Of all of them, Ria had scared him the most. She had seemed a little imposing. Impersonal, really. And Healing the "sniffles of the nobility" didn't really set him afire with longing. Haven was the first place he'd ever been in that felt even a little like home, so being assigned to a temple wasn't exactly his favorite idea either. If he had to be a Healer, he'd at least like to specialize.

With a sigh that was more relief than regret, he crossed Ria off of his list. Of the two remaining Healers, Don was the one that drew him most. Not even the most paranoid Trainee could find anything threatening in his affable manner. Treet was tempted to become Don's student, but upon examining Don's specialty, he wasn't so sure. Burning out infection. Well, Healers were supposed to have an inner prompting and Treet's was telling him that the illnesses combined with the small children he was sure he'd have no talent with should be enough to make him give up on that idea. With true regret, he decided that that path was not for him and turned to the one remaining option.

Trauma Healing. With Sera. Who seemed intelligent and fairly kind, as well as interesting. And her field was intriguing to Treet, being closer to the types of afflictions that he had grown up around than any of the others thus far. In fact, his Gift had unfolded in the first place by allowing him to sense injuries to workers around the Holding.

It would do, he decided. Overthinking the situation would in all probability lead to ruin. It wasn't as though any of the Healers were particularly odious choices.

Surprised that his decision had actually been reduced to a manageable before midnight, Treet closed his books and went to bed with a tired yawn and only a small twinge of fear for the interview that lay ahead for the morrow.

The Dean's office seemed to be filled with ghosts. Treet had no idea how this could have happened, given that they had only had half a Candlemark to occupy the place, but despite this handicap, they seemed to have done a fairly thorough job. He carefully averted his eyes from the chairs against the wall of the small office. It almost seemed as though he could see himself there, although he was certain he must look at least two years older than the small figure crouched there.

Looking to the other wall was no better. Rith and Lirain seemed to take up their places, replaying their entrance over and over again, and the Dean hadn't moved from her spot behind her desk. Of course, she really was there, was supposed to be there, and was, in fact, currently gazing at Treet with an expression of slight annoyance. Treet was too busy counting the grains in the wood of the floor to notice this.

"I brought my first report," Treet said hesitantly after a long moment of silence. The Dean looked up from her papers, seemingly for the first time since Treet's entrance. She shook her head slightly, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder, and gazed at Treet in nonrecognition for a moment.

"Ah, Trainee Tretin?" She asked, seeming to suddenly remember Treet's existence.

Treet felt a flood of relief. Maybe she had forgotten him. If only he could be so lucky. Eliminating the witnesses wasn't exactly his style, and he supposed it wouldn't fit his Healer's image, such as it was, but he couldn't say he hadn't wished for a few bouts of temporary amnesia, including one for himself.

"That's me. I brought my first report." He refrained from expounding on the beauty of the aforementioned report, although when he proffered it in all its glory, he had a slight urge to enshrine it somewhere.

"Very good." She took it from him noncommittally and placed it on her desk with a similar pile, all equally beribboned. Beside them lay a smaller and slightly more smudged pile which Treet assumed belonged to the older Trainees.

The Dean looked down at the pile of papers in front of her again. Treet hesitantly cleared his throat.

"I-decided-on-a-teacher." He blurted as fast as he could. The Dean blinked, her mouth moving slightly as she tried to translate. "Oh yes, of course. Forgive me for not asking. Who did you chose, and I'll enter it in the Collegium Rolls."

"Healer Sera, I think." Treet enunciated as clearly as he could.

"Good choice," the Dean said. "I'm sure you two will get along, and you'll learn a great deal." This seemed to be some kind of a formulaic response, as the Dean did not even look up as she said it. Treet took this as a dismissal and left with as much dignity as he could muster.

He shut the door, still remembering. He could almost imagine Karissa standing outside the door snapping at the Dean. He never had found out what she had been arguing about. Karissa! Treet suddenly realized that he hadn't seen the Herald since he had woken up to find her sprawled in a chair next to him. He hadn't seen her conscious since before he'd been an official Trainee.

He didn't stop to think about it. He hadn't much to do for the rest of the week, and he knew he'd only talk himself out of the idea if he lingered. Soon he was blinking at the bright sunlight, walking as fast as he could towards the Heraldic Collegium.

There were Companions scattered around the Collegium grounds, out with their Chosen. They were probably around his own age, newly-Chosen, he assumed from the overawed expression in their eyes as they talked quietly to their Companions, occasionally laughing at a witty comment.

Treet walked up to the nearest one, lying in the grass with his Companion chuckling softly. "Excuse me?" He asked quietly.

The boy didn't quite look up. "Trainee Herald Pol at your service!" He laughed at something his Companion said. "And Companion Satiran, of course." He smiled affectionately at the white form beside him.

"I was wondering if you might tell me where I could find a Herald?" Treet continued softly.

"Any Herald or one in particular? From what I've learned so far, it's usually us that come looking for you! Usually succeed as well, from what I hear!" Pol said in a jocular tone, although his eyes shadowed slightly. He had clearly done a lot of thinking about what it might mean to be a Herald as the Karsite Border was heating up. They said that things might come to a head during the lifetime of the current generation, but nobody was quite sure when.

"A particular one, actually," Treet admitted, smiling despite himself.

"You could ask the Dean of Heralds, if you like. Herald Tebren is in his office. If you just want to know if they're on circuit or not, though, I could probably ask Satiran." Pol looked over questioningly at his Companion and apparently got an affirmative answer.

"Herald Karissa," Treet supplied, unsure who he was supposed to direct the query to. Pol listened for a moment, in that way Heralds had, and replied "Satiran says she's on one of the northern circuits. She left a few weeks ago, he says."

"Oh. Well, thank you." Treet said.

"No problem." Pol assured him before returning to his conversation with Satiran.

Treet was at a loss. He couldn't believe he had forgotten all about Herald Karissa. It was as though the whirlwind of the Collegium had swept him up in his new life so fully that he had had no time for regrets or for looking backwards.

He wondered if she had noticed his absence, or if she had been too busy being a Herald. He wondered if the fragile Mindhealing he had tried to do had unraveled, as he was certain that it would do over time. Incongruously, he also wondered if she had ever found any use for that pot of glue.

Lessons with Sera would start soon, and classes at the Collegium. He wondered where he would be when he next saw Karissa. He wished he could discuss his first week with her. She probably knew all sorts of useful things, and he could have talked to her about Lirain.

Lirain. There was definitely something odd there, Treet was sure of that. She seemed to be forever making excuses to touch him, appearing behind him at odd moments or gazing at him when she thought he wasn't looking. He figured he was supposed to resent this. He knew what his brothers would have said, or rather, sniffed. "Shows why women aren't meant for much outside the kitchen. Soft, all of them." He could almost hear their voices.

He searched inside himself, looking for something of the kind, but there was nothing. The fact was that if anyone else had done it, he would probably have been repulsed. Because it was Lirain, it was right. Anything she did was right.

He had seen Trainees holding hands in the hallways before. Of course, they were usually engaged in spirited discussions about curing fevers or something of the sort, but occasionally they said other things. Not that he specifically listened, but it was hard to avoid.

Treet sometimes wanted to stare into Lirain's storm gray eyes and brush back her emerald hair. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was wonderful. He wanted her to hold his hand and snuggle close to him over a textbook, although he had to admit that since he didn't have many textbooks and he doubted he would understand hers, this might present a small problem.

Not that he admitted any of this is the daylight hours, but he dreamed about her often. He tried to dismiss it. Besides, what would she want with the likes of him?

You don't care about people. You just don't do it. The thought was unformed but not unfelt, and often after a particularly vivid dream about Lirain, he would lapse into awful nightmares. The thought of being near her caused him to break out in a cold sweat, his hands trembled when he saw her, but it was worse when he didn't see her. He felt hyper aware of her every movement. Even when she wasn't around, he fancied he knew where she was, which was absolutely ridiculous, he told himself firmly.

By this time, he had fretted himself all the way back to the Collegium and it was lunchtime. Lirain was waiting for him, and after lunch, he would tell his Orientation instructor that he wanted to sign up for classes at the Heraldic Collegium.

Lirain hooked what she could of her hair behind her ears. It had been a long morning, to say the least. She rarely studied in the mornings anymore, relying on her supposed free time for that. Mindhealers were stretched too thin, and she was trained enough to take some of the burden from Rith.

She smiled at her teacher and gathered her things, preparing to leave for lunch. As she reached the door, Rith called her back. Lirain turned, slightly annoyed. She was hungry, and lunch meant a chance to see Treet.

As though Rith had read her mind, she looked at Lirain enquiringly and asked "By the way, how are things going with your Holderkin boy?"

Lirain had a tendency to smile at the very mention of Treet, which she did, blushing slightly. "He doesn't flinch when I touch him anymore. I fell asleep on him the other day."

"And he did nothing? A good sign, on the whole." Rith grinned wickedly. "Was he comfortable?"

Lirain blushed redder. "Yes. He's so cute when he's not thinking about it."

"Off you go to lunch, then. Sounds as if you two are doing admirably so far."


	22. Collegium

Disclaimer: I still disclaim everything. Enough said.

Anyway, my review count is going up, which makes me nice and happy. I know, I've been awful about updating lately. I've been busy with school and I have nasty writers block a lot of the time. Total evilness.

Fireblade: Aww, he is. He is so very cute. It makes me want to snuggle with him myself. Healers would be funny drunk, but I don't think they do that sort of thing.

Tenshi: It's not really about much of anything at the moment, I'm afraid. It's just sort of how he's passing the time. And yeah, I mean, you can't write that time period without an appearance by Pol.

Violet Rush: Lirain is cute too, you're right. And I know, I have to learn to update.

Oceanmate: Oops –blushes- Did I mess up? I should go edit that. Thanks! And yeah, the PoV thing was a sort of spontaneous tack on, just in case anyone was wondering about Lirain.

Tessabe: Yes, yes you're right, I know. I'm awful. Must update. I'll write it on my hand or something.

Wizard: Yes, I'll try to make sure something actually happens soon.

On the updates front, I'm going to get to the plot driving parts again soon, and the story should end in maybe seven more chapters. I'll see how far I can stretch it, as I have no idea what I'll write after this is done. On the other hand, I'm totally running out of things to call the chapters.

Treet and Pol seem to want to become friends, which doesn't really fit canon-wise. I guess after Pol's internship, they'll sort of grow apart, leaving the way clear for a totally true-to-canon ending.

Anyway, I guess I'll start writing and maybe we wont have to wait a month for the next installment. Heh…-hides- I just cant seem to update, can I?

What is with me and this story lately? I'm just going to post this before I mangle it worse. I have to apologize, there's sort of a plot gap between the last point I wrote well and the next point I know how to write, so I'm just doing my best to fill it in, I'm afraid.

Chapter 22: Collegium

With a conscious effort, Treet unclenched his hand, absently smoothing the material of his cloak flat where it had been bunched in his fist. Logically, he was sure that he looked just as neat as he had when he had last looked in the mirror approximately five minutes ago. He was quite certain, however, that his hair was out of order or his pale robes mussed.

He wondered what he had been thinking, signing up to take classes with Heralds. They were as far above him, a common Holderkin boy, as the sky itself. Either that or they were as far below him as to be dirt beneath his feet. Treet rather doubted that, though. From what he had heard, the Heralds held the kingdom of Valdemar together as tightly as glue. Either way, how could he expect to mingle with them?

A small voice inside Treet's head reminded him that the Trainee he had met previously hadn't seemed uppity. He had, in fact, seemed altogether as friendly as one of the other Trainees in Healers would be. He had no idea why Heralds seemed to unapproachable when the other Healers were on their way to becoming the family he had always wished for. Possibly it was that while the Holderkin didn't usually bother to condemn Healers, a great portion of their wrath was always reserved for the Heralds.

Having picked up his schedule the previous day, Treet was able to head directly for the classroom listed as his first class. History. He grimaced. Unless they decided to talk about Elspeth the Peacemaker and her ideas on foreign policy, with which Treet was painfully familiar, he suspected he would be woefully ignorant. After that was Maths, which wasn't so bad. Treet had always reckoned himself fairly good at sums, although he had only been taught the most rudimentary of mathematics, he had surpassed most of his sibs at those. After that, he would have Geography followed by Weapons and then his day with the Heralds would be done.

Although most Heraldic Trainees also learned the rudiments of many languages, folklore, orienteering and many other things, Treet was only taking the basic classes. He knew he would probably never wander the wilds of Valdemar or travel to foreign lands, and he was content to miss out on those other lessons.

By this time, Treet had reached his first classroom. He paused at the door, wondering if he should enter, and the sound of laughter from inside decided him.

There was no sign of laughing students. Trainees in the Grays of their rank were sitting in somber groups around tables. There was no teacher in sight, but they seemed to be working already.

"It is my belief that the Randale-Arven negotiations were a valuable catalyst in the eventual restructuring of Hardorn due to problems in the temporal rulership of the aforementioned nation." One Trainee intoned pompously. Another nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

Treet's face fell. He had never heard of anything like a "Randale-Arven negotiation". He turned to leave, or at least hide in a corner somewhere, when he heard the sound of laughter behind him.

As he turned, one of the Trainees laughed so hard he fell off of his chair with a loud thud. "You didn't really think we were discussing the Randale whatsits did you?" He chortled, barely able to get the words out.

Treet nodded, unsure what was going on. "You weren't?" He asked uncertainly.

"As far as we know, they had nothing to do with Hardorn at all. They might as well have taken place in Iftel for all we know about them."

As Treet stared in no little relief, he began to grin himself. He could see that there was some small amusement in that prank. They certainly hadn't allowed him to believe it long enough for it to become malicious.

The ice broken, one of the Trainees came up to Treet and led him to an empty chair. Treet recognized him as the Trainee he had asked about Herald Karissa the previous week.

Noting the spark of recognition, Pol bowed mockingly. "Herald Trainee Pol once again at your service, although minus Satiran at the moment. I imagine we'll be in a few of the same classes, as we're sort of in the same Yeargroup."

Treet considered this and decided to be daring. He also bowed, saying stuffily "And I am, of course, your loyal servant, Healer Trainee Tretin."

This sent Pol into gales of laughter. "I didn't think you Healers knew how to have fun. That was spot on. You sound exactly like Lord Cedrin. He's one of the court nobles," Pol added, noticing Treet's confusion. "I sometimes get to spy on the court during my Farseeing lessons, so I've "met" a good few of the nobles in my short weeks here."

Treet smiled and would have said more, but at that moment the teacher walked in. Treet was fascinated by him. If it hadn't been for the disarming smile he shot the class at a whole as he entered, he would have looked like a figure straight from a ballad, ready to charge into battle. As it was, he certainly cut a dashing figure in his Whites.

"Good morning everyone. I'm Herald Aldric and I'll be your history teacher."

From then on, Treet had no more time to muse about the figure his teacher cut. He was entirely involved in the lesson. He had greeted the idea of actually learning on the first day with a little resentment at first, but the information was so fascinating that Treet couldn't help but become bound up in the story of the first few years after the founding of Valdemar.

After the class had ended, Treet, slightly dazed, headed to Maths, where the teacher was an old Herald, presumably retired. She mostly spent their class setting them problems to complete in groups and circulating the room to see how everyone was doing.

Treet was more impressed by the room in which Geography was taught than by anything done in the class itself. The room, a fairly large one, was covered floor to ceiling in maps! Maps of specific areas, maps of the border, road maps, terrain maps, maps of other countries, maps Treet had never even knew existed. During the class itself, which was basically a lecture on what would be expected and a project assignment, Treet continually had to force his eyes away from those maps and back to the front of the room.

As soon as the teacher dismissed their class, Treet rushed out of the Collegium, blinking in the midday sun. After running back to his rooms and changing into the slightly more worn set of clothes he had been given for arms practice, he headed back outside, hoping he would be able to find the salle.

He looked around for a moment before spotting an area that looked as though it might be the salle, where his Weapons class was to be held.

He began to trudge towards it, hoping he wasn't expected to bring his own equipment. His worldly possessions consisted of what he had been given at the Collegium, the horse he had run away with, which he had stupidly left at the market, and a pot of glue, currently in the possession of a crazed Herald in the vicinity of the Border.

He shrugged. He was rather indifferent on the subject of worldly possessions, a trait probably stemming from his inability to hide anything from his brothers long enough to get attached to it.

As he reached the salle, he could see a line of Trainees already stretching, supervised by a lean woman in worn Whites. It was a mark of the slow change that had come over Treet that he didn't even stop to think about what his Father would have said on the subject of women bearing arms. He simply walked over to her and said, rather shyly "Excuse me, Herald? I'm new."

She turned to look at him, stern but not bad-tempered, from what Treet could tell. His old weapons teacher had been both, the latter rather more noticeably than the former.

"I see. From Healers?" She nodded at his uniform, obviously not requiring an answer.

"Any previous experience in self defense?" She looked down her nose at him, obviously expecting to find him wanting.

"A little," Treet replied timidly. "I can use a dagger a little, but only a small one, for emergencies. I would have started to learn the sword this year, if I hadn't left home."

To his relief, the Armsmaster did not inquire further, favoring him with a gruff nod. "If you would like to learn the sword, I can teach you a little of that. I would like to teach you the short sword, as it is handier in the close quarters sorts of situations Healers are most likely to find themselves in."

Treet simply nodded, desperate to avoid her gaze. She was the sort of person who was downright frightening when her attention was concentrated on you. Most Trainees tried not to let that happen.

To his utter relief, she did not instantly hand him a sharp weapon and expect him to sink or swim. She set him simple enough exercises with a wooden short sword and a straw target, designed to give him a feel for the weapon and strengthen the muscles he would need to wield a real sword one day. At first, Treet was clumsy, but as the Candlemark wore on, he managed to at least hit the straw dummy most of the time. Nevertheless, by the time he left, he was utterly exhausted and glad of the Candlemark and a half lunch break he had before he was to meet Healer Sera for his first lesson.

After bathing and grabbing a quick meal, consuming it at a rate which caused the Trainees around him to marvel, Treet headed back to his room, flopping onto his bed and falling fast asleep, only to be rudely awakened a full Candlemark later by the sounds of the class change bell sounding at the Heralds Collegium in the distance.

Thankful that the bell had woken him, Treet hurriedly straightened his robes and splashed water onto his face. He was looking forward to this part. He found it slightly incongruous that although he had been a Trainee enrolled in the Healers Collegium for more than a moon, he had no more of an idea as to what Healers actually did than he had had before he had entered the Collegium for the first time.

When he stepped through the door that divided the House of Healing from the rest of the Collegium, Sera was waiting for him. Upon seeing him, she smiled and beckoned for him to come closer. "Since today's our first day, I'm not going to keep you for too long, I'm sure you're already exhausted. That said, before I start actually teaching you anything, I'd like to take you on my daily rounds, so you can get a bit of an idea as to what it is I actually do."

Sera's protestations to the contrary, that simple statement led to several Candlemarks of explanations and Healings. Treet reminded himself several times that he had asked for this, had only recently wished to know more of a Healer's job.

In some rooms, the miasma of pain and despair were nearly too much for Treet to stand. People who had been healthy, often at the peak of their lives, did not take well to sudden incapacitation.

As time went on, however, Treet's initial nausea turned to more of an itch. He wanted to help these people; he could feel his Gift energy, all untrained, trying to reach out beyond his shields to pour into the patients. He restrained it with some effort, fearing what he might do if he tried to Heal without training, but he was comforted by the fact that he was obviously not ill-suited for the job of Healing, as his initial nausea had made him fear.

He listened closely to Sera's slightly absent-minded explanations of her duties, already thinking forward to the day when he would perform them. He returned to his room that day tired, but feeling a sense of belonging and rightness.


	23. Healing

Disclaimer: Is it really necessary to disclaim everything every chapter? I don't own –cries-

Yeah, let me just thank my reviewers for reviewing so faithfully, much more faithfully than I've been updating, I'm afraid. Maybe I'll make 200 reviews before I finish this thing. That would be cool.

Fireblade: Pranking trainees pwn. I don't think Treet's the type, but maybe I'll come up with a nice story about the Bards or Blues next just for that aspect. I actually had a great idea for a story about a Bard, but I don't know anything about music, so I'm putting it off, lol.

Queen of the Jungle: Thanks, glad you like it! Healers fascinate me, especially Mercedes Lackey's Healers and it frustrates me that she doesn't give them more spotlight. Glad you think I'm doing an adequate job on my own.

Lurks in Shadows: Thanks. I try to keep my grammar as decent as possible, but yeah. Thanks for letting me know. If I ever get around to editing, I'll edit that out and I'll watch for that in the future chapters – if they ever get written, lol.

Tenshi: More Pol! Yup. He sort of wormed his way in, although I don't think we'll be seeing him again until the epilogue now.

Wizard: Thanks. I'm gonna try to move the plot along faster, starting in a couple chapters. I still have my huge melodramatic plot twist to come, in which all shall be revealed –laughs evilly-

M3m0rii: Glad you like my story and my Lifebond thing. I wouldn't want to get it over with too early; there's just so much tension to exploit this way. Plus, I have a distinct liking for making my characters suffer for their happily ever after.

Wishingicouldthinkofsomething: Don't worry, I'll make it to the end of this story, I promise. Not that it won't take an unholy length of time, but I'll tie everything up neatly eventually.

I'm just warning you guys, I know I haven't been updating all that regularly, but it's going to be even worse for a little while. These next few months are going to be nasty, I'm afraid. I have a week's vacation coming up, but I'll be visiting my dad in no Internet territory, so no luck there. After that is midterms and papers and AP exams and SAT II's in obscene amounts, so I'll see what I can do, but yeah.

On the bright side, I just finished my chapter by chapter outline of the rest of the story, which is a deviation from my have a vague idea and see what happens style of writing but will hopefully ward off the writers block. It looks like we'll hit exactly 35 chapters plus an epilogue. Of course, who knows what I'll write after this. I'll miss my characters. Anyway, I'll shut up and let you all have the chapter I've made you all wait far too long for. Sorry it's a bit short, its sort of exposition, preparing for the next plot leap.

Chapter 23: Healing

After only a moon or so of practicing at Sera's side, Treet was thoroughly inured to the sounds of the House of Healing. The persistent headaches that had plagued him at first were a thing of the past and he was more like to forget about the noise and bustle until he retreated to his room of a night and could actually find time to remember what silence was.

Still, there was one noise, or set of noises, that would bring him out of a sound sleep, never mind the doze he had been indulging himself in. That was the set of noises that meant they were bringing a new patient in; the violent shouts of the patient's friends or witnesses to whatever accident had occurred and the murmur of Healers sending the aforementioned friends off to sit quietly while they took charge of the patient.

Treet catapulted himself up off of the bench he had been reclining on as Sera did the same beside him. They both hiked up their robes so as not to trip and dashed towards the source of the noise, almost instantly alert and ready.

While Sera questioned the other Healers and the men who had brought this particular patient in, Treet hurried to prepare a room and led the people bearing the semi-conscious man into it, instructing them to lay him gently on the bed. Treet looked him over in the way that had become familiar to him. His chest was particularly bad, sporting mud and blood in almost equal parts. It appeared that at least his leg was broken, if not other limbs as well. Treet busied himself stripping the man of what was left of his shirt and gently sponging the mud from his chest to reveal long gashes as well as a few rapidly purpling bruises. The man moaned slightly and tried to move, but the pain in his leg as he did so evidently convinced him that it was a bad idea and he lay still Treet then selected.

A few seconds later, Sera entered the room sedately, her footfalls as quiet as she could make them. Treet, of course, could easily tell that she had run as fast as she could from the entrance and was simply putting on a show of dignity meant to inspire confidence.

"Run over by a cart," she said briefly as she fed the patient a few spoonfuls of the pain potion she held in her hand. "Nobody really seems to know how he managed it. Hit him straight on. No, don't move," she added as the man made to reach for the spoon himself.

"What do you recommend?" Sera asked, surprising Treet. He wondered where the Healer or older Trainee she had surely gotten to assist her with the Healing was. Every other time they had done a Healing, she had found someone to feed her energy and help her. Surely she wasn't going to do it alone.

"First we Heal the worst of the open wounds, legs cant get any more broken but cuts can get infected," Treet said, quoting Sera's opinion on the subject. "Then we start any broken bones healing and immobilize them. Then we leave him to recover on his own."

"I know what I think we should do, what do you think we should do?" Sera asked, deftly checking the patient over for less obvious breaks while making soothing noises.

"Uh, that," Treet said uncertainly. "It seems sensible to me."

"Good. Next time I ask you for information, don't spout, think about it first. Now get over here and help me with him. I'll need you to feed me energy and assist with the Healing." She reached for Treet's hand.

Treet gaped at her. "You want me to help you? What if I…?"

"You won't," Sera interrupted impatiently. Although she generally had the greatest of tolerance for Treet's doubts and uncertainties, this wasn't the time. "Trust me. You've been watching me do it for an entire moon. You know what to do." She again extended her hand imperiously and this time Treet took it.

Sera redirected her attention to the man on the bed. Although he was no longer in as much pain, he was extremely dazed and seemed barely able to understand what was happening. "Try to hold as still as you can," she told him, "we're going to help you, you'll be just fine."

Treet took a deep centering breath and as he let it out he slowly powered his shields and linked with his teacher, sending her as much pure green energy as she could use, holding nothing back.

He watched her take the energy he sent her and use it to finish cleaning the man's wounds, that they would not fester once closed. Then she mentally "turned" and handed her power to Treet. Instinctively, he reached out and grasped it, knowing what she wanted him to do. There was no fear or doubt left in him, only certainty. He made sure he was properly centered and not at all off balance, performing the checks that had become habitual over the past moon. He located the beacon lit by the patient's pain and poured the soothing balm of Healing energy into it until the man glowed with a different kind of light. Treet carefully reconstructed the abused flesh, reconnecting blood vessels and closing up the open wounds. It was, incongruously enough, peaceful work as well as being satisfying. Treet felt serene and calm, completely certain and sure for the first time in his memory. If all Healings were like this, no wonder Healers had a reputation for such unholy placidity!

When Treet was done he carefully disengaged himself and handed energy back to Sera through their shared link; bone Healing was far too complicated for him as yet.

When they finally finished and stood up to leave, the patient resting peacefully with another noxious herbal brew awaiting him when he woke, Sera gave Treet a smile of pride and congratulations. She didn't even bother to say 'I told you so,' contenting herself with "it's wonderful, isn't it?".

"Oh yes," Treet breathed. "Is it always like that?"

"They say nothing is ever quite like the first time, but a Healing meld is always deeply satisfying," she told him, slipping easily into teaching mode. "Healing is in accord with the universe, one of the things that is completely so. Even the Shadow Lover doesn't begrudge us our victories, for he knows that he will hold each of us in his embrace soon or late, and would not deny us what extra time can be bought."


	24. Long Talks

Disclaimer: I'm not Mercedes Lackey…it's highly unfortunate, I know.

Yes, I know, I'm awful. I've been bogged in over my head with work since April and I haven't updated. But I haven't lost interest in this story, I'm just being slow. So please, continue to review, let me know what you're thinking, and know that someday I'll finish this story, I promise. I wont let it die in the middle. Now, on to reviews!

Fireblade: Yup, definitely suffering from block, among other things, such as chronic overwork. Sorry for the shortness, though.

Wizard: Thanks, but I know, two months is a long time between posts. My characters are thwapping me for this as we speak.

Tenshi: Thanks, and it was short, I know.

Leshyae: Lol, thanks. I hope you keep reading.

Anyway, another little filler chapter. I'm trying to make the plot go faster, but filler chapters are sort of necessary, so yeah. Read, review, hopefully enjoy. Poor Lirain's a little sad, but all shall work out in the end.

Sorry about this chapter. I know it's not so good. The next one will be much better, I promise, once I get over this filler hump we should be good again, hopefully.

Chapter 24: Long Talks

Treet was sitting at his desk leafing determinedly through the next chapter of one of his many books on Healing. He currently had more books in his formerly empty bookshelf than he had seen in all of his pre-Collegium life. They weren't exactly his, of course, they belonged to the Collegium, but they were his for the duration of his studies.

More and more, he was beginning to realize the sheer amount of knowledge contained within the world. The Holderkin tended to scoff at more advanced knowledge as against the will of their ascetic, repressive God. As a result, Treet's knowledge had not gone beyond the necessities of his life and most of that had never been explained to him, only taught him as rote that he had better learn unless he wanted to suffer grievous consequences. In fact, looking back on it, he doubted that even his teachers had known the reasons behind much of what they had taught him. Looking at the sheer amount of whys and wherefores sitting before him, Treet almost missed that simple method. If he failed here, no one would beat him, no one would send him to bed without supper. In all probability, the reproach wouldn't even by verbal, but it would be there. The carefully veiled looks of disappointment when he failed to master his lessons, the knowledge that he had let down people who depended on him, that was enough, and it was more punishment than a thousand beatings, Treet had learned that early on, when his mistakes could be corrected before they harmed someone. Now, well, there was simply no room for mistakes. Now that he had begun to actually practice his new craft, albeit in a slightly limited fashion, he knew with grim determination which was not unleavened by pleasure that he would learn his lessons and learn them well.

It was in this steely and slightly grim mood that Lirain found Treet that evening. As she progressed in her studies she found more and more that her evenings were free and the burdens on her time easing. Not that she wasn't worked nearly off of her feet whenever she so much as set a toe within the House of Healing, but between patients she increasingly found that her studies were becoming a lighter burden. She only met with Rith three or four days out of every seven now, as opposed to five or six, and that was mostly to discuss cases, often more as equals than as teacher and student.

She had started off with no particular destination in mind, but, unsurprisingly, she ended up outside Treet's door. She shrugged mentally. After all, nobody had said that she wasn't allowed to simply be with him, and she ached for his presence in a queer way that only an unacknowledged soul bond can cause. She was careful not to appear overly interested in his doings, she sometimes thought that all the adults of the House of Healing knew what was going on, given the propensity her patients had to find themselves roomed close to wherever Sera and Treet were assigned to work.

Lirain was careful to knock on the door and wait for a reply before entering, although she already knew that Treet was simply studying at his desk. At his surprised "Come in" she pushed open the door, closing it carefully behind her.

Treet barely moved at the sound of the knock, although he had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he was almost in a trance. When the door opened, he was unsurprised to see Lirain standing there. It seemed as if he had known all along that she would be there.

Lirain stepped lightly across the room, the stride that had taken so long for her to learn but which was now as natural as the heavy booted clomp of her childhood had been. She settled herself cross-legged on the floor with her back against Treet's bed, secure in the assumption that she belonged there.

With a sigh of relief, Treet closed his book, carefully marking his place with a scrap of cloth. Although in the moons he had been at the Collegium his reading skills had improved enormously, it was still hard for him to take in information as he read for any length of time.

As he turned to face Lirain, a sudden moment of uncertainty loomed before him like a wall. He was utterly at a loss for what to say. His arms felt awkward and too long for his body and every movement seemed exaggerated and uncomfortable. She smiled and the moment passed over him like a wave. How utterly silly it was to be afraid of Lirain's company.

"Hey," Treet said simply. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Lirain laughed. "You see me every day. But I haven't talked to you in ages. Whenever I see you, one or the other of us is rushing to get somewhere two minutes faster than should normally be possible."

Treet laughed as well, using the noise to cover up the motion as he slid off of his chair and joined Lirain on the floor. "I suppose that's our lot. No wonder they don't tell you what you're getting into when they snatch you and drag you off Companion back!"

"My parents would have given a dozen moon's worth of stipend if I had been dragged off on a Companion. They were too polite to shove me under the noses of the unattached Companions, but I think they were a little disappointed not to see me in Grays. You see, to a Herald, the Healer is the thing between them and their duty, usually with them flat on their backs and unable to move and the Healer telling them that is really isn't a good idea to go off and ride that border circuit anyway. Not that they don't appreciate us." She said this with a wryly-slanted smile. It was common knowledge that the Healers considered the Heralds to be the epitome of a bad patient.

"You grew up here, then?" Treet asked.

"Oh yes. I'm a Collegium brat, you see. They admitted me earlier than most simply because if they hadn't I would probably only have ended up wandering around the Collegium all day trying things out on my own and driving the Healers into the Terilee with my questions."

Treet could well imagine this scenario.

Although they were simply exchanging mundane and everyday words, anyone with even a touch of the Gift of Empathy could have sensed the tension growing between them. It was evident in the way they carefully avoided touching each other, although they sat side by side, the way Treet leapt back as if burned when his hand grazed Lirain's ankle.

After a while, they simply sat in silence, each feeling as though they were alone. For Lirain it was like regaining the stability she had lost the instant she had first looked into Treet's eyes. She hadn't even recognized the constant feeling she had had of vertigo, of tipping and spinning, until it had suddenly stopped. She sighed, eyelids drooping. Exhaustion was always the condition of the Healer, to some degree or another, but on top of everything else she had been suffering from chronic not-quite-insomnia. She slept. Sometimes. But waking or sleeping, when her hands weren't full of potions and her mind occupied with the task at hand, her thoughts turned insuppressibly to a certain pair of shy green eyes.

Inherently stubborn as she was, she refused to dose herself with her own medications, relying on her centering exercises to eventually put her to sleep of a night. "Soon," Rith told her every night they met, Lirain's eyes asking the question for her. "I've been checking with Sera and she says he's coming along nicely. Just hang on a little longer."

Rith's pity had been a new experience for Lirain. Even the hardest lessons, the longest hours had not elicited it. Kindness, yes, sympathy, empathy, yes, but never pity.

There were a few Lifebonded couples among the various Collegium dwellers, and Rith had once suggested that Lirain seek them out, that maybe among the younger ones she could find a confidant. Lirain had tried it, sort of. Seeing them together, knowing that they had what she did not; it was by far more unbearable than simply not having it at all. There was exactly one person, she thought, who could end it. Ironically, he was sitting next to her.

Her work hadn't suffered, she thought with a touch of pride. She kept her vertigo penned securely in the furthest reaches of her mind, where it affected no one but her. It was debilitating, draining, and would surely come out later, she had learned that in her years of study, but it was better than nothing. She held on to Rith's words as though to a lifeline. Not too much longer.

She had been careful not to come and see Treet too often in the preceding moons. It wasn't as though mostly everyone in the Collegium other than him didn't know about their bond, but she knew she had to be careful not to chase him away. Or at least, her brain knew it.

She relaxed against the frame of his bed and could see that he had done the same. They had this. She treasured these times, when the world came into focus once more. What were a few moons? A mere disturbance, really. They would have all of their lives together. She didn't allow herself to think of any other possibility anymore.

She wasn't desperate, exactly. She still did all the things she had always done, laughed, jokes, discussed interesting cases, studied. Somehow, though, there was a detachment, an emptiness that never quite disappeared except when she was with him.

She could feel him watching her, as she was watching him, out of the corner of his eye. Neither wanted to be the first to move and break the idyll that had descended over them, but both knew that someone had to be the first to do it.

As if be some unspoken agreement, they moved simultaneously, Treet stretching and Lirain beginning to get to her feet. There was almost no need for her to say anything, but she did anyway. "I guess I should be going. I have a long shift tomorrow." It seemed a woefully inadequate expression.

She walked out slowly, not glancing back, although her hand lingered on the doorknob for longer than was strictly necessary. Another night.


	25. A Note

Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm totally out of original disclaimers by now.

Look at me! Updating! Within two days! I'm so cool –grin- Keep reviewing, guys, it means a lot to me when people take the time to read this and comment on it.

Fireblade: Heh, angst. Gotta love it. I need to dig up an angsty one shot somewhere in the nether regions of my brain…hmmm. Lol, Treet shall get better soon.

Wishing: It is sort of sad. Actually, he will find out about it soon. It doesn't really matter that he can read auras, the fact is that he doesn't realize that there's something off with his because it's been off for as long as he's been at the Collegium

Tenshi: Heh, thanks

Rayn: Glad you like my story! Hope you keep reading/reviewing.

Anyway, chapter 25. A new plot segment starts and an interesting twist emerges which is not at all what it appears. Hint hint.

Everyone seems angst filled at this point in the plot and it will get worse before it gets better, but it will get better.

Chapter 25: A Note

Treet left the House of Healing grudgingly, reluctant to leave his teacher's side even for a second. Granted, it was the end of his assigned work hours, but he often found himself staying later, now that he was allowed to exercise his Gift as well as his hands.

Still, a summons from the Dean of the Collegium was nothing to be taken lightly. Or so the significant look the Healer who had delivered the message as she rushed past had given him seemed to suggest.

He resisted the urge to scuff the toe of his shoe against the ground like a little. The thought of going back there made him want to regress to acting like the child he no longer was. He laughed at his own pompousness. On the outside, at least, he was still a child. He got the distinct feeling, though, that one could not work in the House of Healing and remain so for long. Although he knew deep down that there was nothing else in all of Valdemar that he would rather be doing, he also knew as surely as he knew his own name that he would pay a hefty price for his calling.

Treet reached the door, raised his hand to knock, experiencing a powerful sensation of déjà vu. He knocked and at the called "Come in!" he twisted the knob and walked into the room, carefully looking neither left nor right and thinking of nothing, simply staring at a point somewhere above the Dean's head.

He amused himself for a moment imagining how many ghosts must inhabit this place. Was there anyone who could stand it for more than a few minutes? If he ever found himself Dean, his first act of business would assuredly be to move his office somewhere else. Anywhere else would do.

The Dean looked up at him. Without judgment, possibly without memory. "Oh, Trainee Tretin." Her voice was neutral. "I have a message for you."

A message? Who would be sending him a message? Could it be Herald Karissa? He had almost resigned himself to her absence, knowing that it would be a long time until she returned. He wondered absently how she was doing. A message from her would be wonderful.

But if it was just from a Herald out on circuit, why was the Dean giving him that significant, wary look? Surely there was no problem. Had something happened to Karissa? He had barely a moment to ponder that disturbing line of thought before the Dean spoke again. "Yes, a message. From your family."

It took Treet a few moments to process that information, during which he simply stared. His first thought was 'What family?'. He had been so involved in his new life that his moments of regret for the family that had, for the most part, given him nothing but pain were few and far between. His second thought was one of resignation. 'If it's simply a rant about how my very lifestyle is offensive to them and how I am an abomination, I don't understand why the Dean is even giving it to me.'

Almost mechanically, Treet took the much-folded bit of paper from her hand. He wondered absently who in the Holding could do much more than scrawl their name. The only one he knew who would be even remotely interested in contacting him was his mother, and she had never been taught much beyond the simplest reading and writing.

Treet began to read.

"Dear Son," it began. This in itself was a surprise, in that it didn't say "Dear Abomination" or something of the kind.

"We have recently heard that you have been accepted for training as one of those Healers. We were most worried when you failed to come home from your trip to the market, and your thoughtless mother has been chastised for sending you on such a fool's errand."

Treet winced. He could well imagine what form that chastisement had come in, having been on the receiving end of it himself many a time.

"Although we may have had our disagreements in the past, know that you are still my son, and although your way may not be our way, I hope that we might come to some sort of an agreement. In token of this, we invite you to visit us during your next holiday. Your father."

Treet gaped. He was forced to read the letter through four or five times before the contents penetrated his brain. He thumped heavily into the nearest chair, little noticing that it was the same one he had occupied on a certain other occasion.

Had he been wrong when he had assumed that remaining in Haven meant giving up his family? It wasn't so much that he missed them, wasn't so much that he wanted them back, but, well, if there was one thing he had seen in this part of Valdemar, it was that the family was important. Even Lirain, though her parents were often away, had a warm relationship with them, as he had seen when they were last in Haven. If he had that, he would be more like the others, truly one of them. Oh, no one had ever made him feel excluded, feel his difference from them, but he felt it keenly all the same. He couldn't understand why they would take him back so suddenly, but perhaps it was time to let the unhealed wound of his childhood pass over. After all, he was on his own now. He had a place in the world independent of his family, one that suited him as well as the Holderkin ways had suited his brothers, and maybe, just maybe, his family had accepted that.

He looked up to see the Dean giving him a penetrating stare. "If you wish to visit your family during the Midwinter holidays, we will, of course, not stop you," she said neutrally.

"You don't think I should go?" He dared to ask, staring at the floor while joy and disbelief warred within him.

"I think," the Dean began, "I think you should think this over. It is not…not the usual action. I do not wish to prejudice you against your family, but you must be cautious. If you wish to go, we will provide you with a horse and adequate supplies. You may go. Inform me of your decision when you have made it."

Treet knew he should not have expected the Dean to be happy for him, to understand the meaning of that small piece of paper, but her reply left a bitter taste in his mouth. What was he to do?

His response to this uncertainty was instinctive. It was the end of the day and Lirain, still a Trainee, would most likely be in her rooms. He headed straight there, still clutching his message.

When she opened the door, Treet simply thrust the paper at her, unsure what to do or say, unsure whether to smile or look grim, be uncertain or be happy. She read it, slowly, no emotion visible on her face.

When she was done, she wordlessly pulled Treet inside and closed the door, beckoning him to take a seat on her bed, which he did. She simply looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I want to go," he said, his opinion solidifying as he said it.

"This leaves a bad taste in my mouth," Lirain finally said, softly but firmly. "Obviously, my gift isn't touch reading, but something about this, it doesn't seem quite right."

Treet wasn't really surprised by this. Somewhere inside he had a funny feeling about the whole thing too. Couldn't she see, though, that he almost had to go, for closure's sake if nothing else?

"They're my family," he said, mouthing a platitude to cover his inability to articulate his uneasiness.

"To some extent or another, we all give up our families to come here. You wouldn't be the first nor will you be the last."

"Easy for you to say!" Treet replied hotly, almost unthinkingly. "Your family is right here, and they love you no matter what you do! Mine have seen me always as the odd one out, the misfit, and I just want to show them that I have a place too! What is so wrong with that?"

"Nothing is wrong with your motivation," Lirain assured him, eyes large and sad, "but there may well be more than a few things wrong with theirs."

Treet couldn't even be angry with her, although he boiled with the sense that to not defend his family against her accusations was somehow wrong.

"If there are, I'll find out, and at least there'll be an end to it! I had almost put them behind me, yet they aren't gone. There are days I feel them behind me, passing judgment on all that I do or say and finding me as wanting as they have always done. I need to do this. After all, the worst they can do is hurl a few insults as me, and I surely can't see why they'd bring me all the way to the Holding to do that."

Lirain could well imagine a few reasons, but she kept silent. She knew that to push further would only mean upsetting Treet and goading him into a making a final decision that he wasn't ready to deal with.

She wasn't foolish enough to want to say that he would never need anyone but her, or, at least, the corner of her soul where she hid her romantic fantasies was the only one that thought it. Once they were together. It was a dream for her, a lure tantalizingly out of reach. Sometimes it was so thick in the air she wondered how Treet could miss it. When she asked this, Rith told her that Treet simply felt it in his own way. That on the outside, she probably appeared unaffected as well.

She sighed. All she could do now was remain alert through her special tie to Treet and be prepared to do whatever she could if anything went wrong. She didn't allow the thought to move beyond that nebulous feeling of ill omen, but she was silent for the rest of the evening. Treet left shortly afterwards.

When he informed the Dean of his decision, she gave him a long hard stare, then told him that one of the Collegium horses would be available for him to use starting on the first day of the holidays. He nodded acquiescence and left.


	26. A Nasty Fever

Disclaimer: I definitely own my uber-confusing and twisted plot twist. But nothing else.

Heh. I'm updating again, and it's a long one, too. Whee! Anyway, everyone seems to be guessing that this letter bodes very little good, and I'm not even going to try to deny it. After all, I fully intend to torment my poor protagonists one last time before we hit the ending. I'm hoping this won't get unrealistic or unbelievable, but something had to happen with his family, they can't just leave him alone, they aren't the type. Anyway, I got a lot of reviews on the last chapter, so thanks everyone. Seriously, my plot should twist more often if this is the kind of attention I get for it.

On another note, I just realized that it's been over a year since I first started this story, and it really doesnt feel that long, but it's been great, and I think the story's gotten better and I'm glad I've stuck with a project for this long, and all that other stuff one says when one reaches an anniversary, consider it said. Anyway, happy one year birthday, Greens, and cheers to all my reviewers!

Fireblade: His tail is definitely deep in the fire this time, that's all I'm saying. And Karissa will be otherwise occupied. Although she still has a few major parts to play before this is all out.

Silent: Certainly something nasty. And Holderkin aren't always as subtle as purposeful emotional abuse.

Tenshi: Nope, I don't trust it either. It certainly isn't very Holderkin like…

Wishing: I think Lirain thinks exactly that, actually, and a few other things as well. She isn't particularly happy at the moment, I'm afraid.

Ocean: Not quitting. I'm even trying to update faster, I'm so pleased with myself.

Anyway, next chapter coming up. For the moment, I'm afraid we're leaving Treet and Lirain on a cliffhanger and moving back to our favorite Herald for a few chapters. She has, with her usual bad timing, gotten herself into a tight spot as well. Bear in mind that the reason she is allowed to run around being a danger to herself and everyone else is that she really has nobody close enough to realize what is going on and she is VERY good at shielding everything away.

Chapter 26: A Nasty Fever

They didn't usually assign female Heralds to the border circuits. Except for her. She couldn't even rail at fate, she had asked for it. She often did. The quiet, the solitude, it made her feel alive. The smaller villages, tranquil and submissive to her, were far easier for her to deal with than the larger cities. It was a patchwork cure at best, drowning her troubles in the forests, but it did for her what most Heralds turned to debauchery and carefree fun for. There was no one she trusted enough to call lover and so she often found herself unable to purge the pain of the Heraldic duty from her body, especially after a particularly nasty case.

The last village had chosen the onset of winter to contract a fever, and Veria wasn't speaking to her. These two occurrences were related, of course, she thought ruefully. She had approached the village with only the usual caution, her weak Gift of Mindhearing combined with the lack of any Gifted minds within the village rendering her unable to tell that there was something wrong. She had ridden through the open gates and been greeted by silence. Upon investigation, she had discovered a Herald's bad dream, if not quite a nightmare. Almost the whole village had been struck with one of the winter-onset fevers both common to this area and extremely contagious. The sick were well taken care of in the hands of the healthy, who had known what to do in this situation since they were toddling, but a Healer would be needed to see the village back on its feet.

Karissa had remounted Veria, grit her teeth and ridden for the nearest Temple. When it was absolutely necessary to fetch a Healer, she often did as she had done then, throwing herself into a trance-like state so that afterwards the presence of a Healer not only near her but riding pillion on her sacred preserve, her Companion, would seem nothing more than a dream, like one of the nightmares she so often had, and be so unclear in memory as to have never happened. She knew that it would leave her in a state of trembling exhaustion as soon as she snapped out of it, but what could she do?

As soon as she reached the village, the Healer had slid off of Veria's back without help, her satchel over her shoulder. She had quizzed Karissa, who was still on her Companion, about everything she had seen and heard, then headed off into the village at a run, assuring Karissa as she left that she wasn't needed and should continue with her circuit before she "caught the Gods-be-damned thing herself".

As soon as the Healer had disappeared into a nearby building, Karissa slid off of Veria and went to her knees in the as yet shallow snow, bringing herself back to reality as the icy substance melted through her Whites.

_:There's a small Inn here we can stay in: _Veria sent firmly._ :I know it isn't the custom, but the Innkeeper is otherwise occupied and the upper rooms are completely empty:_

Karissa had reluctantly but wearily agreed, and they had bedded down in the small village Inn/Tavern, unbeknownst to the Innkeeper, and had left only a waytoken behind them as evidence of their stay the next morning.

On their way out the Healer had run after them with an exasperated and disapproving frown. "Herald, you slept here all night. I must check you to make sure you haven't contracted the fever, the contagion has been spread all through the village by this point and the last thing you want is to be spreading it all down the Border."

Karissa could feel Veria's gentle nudging in her mind. Her throat began to clog and she tried to force something resembling speech past her suddenly frozen lips. She would have been backing away frantically if she hadn't been mounted on an obstinately unmoving Companion. The thought of a Healer mindlinked with her, even just the cursory link needed to check if she had contracted the fever, horrified her. She opened her mouth to agree, although she had no idea how she would manage such a thing, but she betrayed herself and a choked "No!" escaped her.

The Healer looked at her quizzically. "Pardon me?"

"I feel fine."

"You would. The fever won't start to operate in your body for around twenty Candlemarks after the first exposure. Now, it wont take but a moment, I shan't delay you at all," the Healer said, slipping into her most effective Healer Knows Best voice.

"I'm not sick!" She knew she sounded petulant and decidedly un-Heraldic, but she wasn't even in conscious control of herself anymore. All she knew was that she would do whatever it took to get out of this situation.

She nudged Veria, who stood stalk still as though she were an obstinate horse. _:Chosen…:_

That one thought conveyed everything Veria wanted it to, but it was to no avail.

With the mental equivalent of gritted teeth, Karissa stared down the Healer, not bothering to cajole Veria. _:If I have to run all the way back to Haven on foot in the snow I am leaving now: _she said as she began to dismount.

With an aggravated snort, Veria began to trot, falling into her most bouncing gait with Karissa still halfway out of the saddle. It was only long practice that kept Karissa from being dumped into the snow, and it was a near enough thing as it was. At the same time, Karissa was subjected to an ear blistering mental lecture about how far exactly through Karse Veria would kick her if she came down with the fever and possibly even if she didn't. With a final thought about obstinate Heralds who endangered entire countrysides with their antics, Veria had firmly blocked Karissa out and they had continued along that way ever since, with Veria still subjecting Karissa to the least even gait known to Companion or man, or so it seemed.

At first, the dizziness seemed to be simple reaction shock, a delayed reaction to bring shut out by her Companion and having to face a Healer. Karissa began to sway, although Veria had curtailed her antics somewhat by that point. It had begun to snow again and each flake felt like an icy pinprick upon her burning forehead. She raised a gloved hand to her own head, feeling the mother of all headaches beginning behind her eyes. Everything felt fogged, and it was lucky that Veria was going slowly, because not a moment later, Karissa fell out of her saddle and went to her knees in the snow for the second time in as many days. Before she fainted away completely, she felt a surprisingly gentle Mindtouch from her Companion.

_:You poor stupid Herald, you're burning up.: _Veria said ruefully, her anger all but melted away. She knew her Chosen was still no more able to control herself than ever, even after this many years. Something would have to be done about that when they got back to Haven, it was becoming a danger. Veria shoved that thought away for later, leaving a part of her mind to the monumental task of plotting a way to get Karissa into the hands of the Mindhealers.

Veria, also, went to her knees in the snow and curled up around her Chosen, sharing her warmth while using her Gifts to look for anyone she could contact for help.

A few miles away, a Herald just recovering from a broken leg was nudged out of his mid-morning nap by an urgent call from his Companion. Herald Arin, incidently, was the Herald Karissa had been sent to replace. He had been planning to begin his journey back to Haven the next day.

_:What is it, Deri:_ Arin asked sleepily.

:I've just been contacted by another Companion, the one who took over your circuit. She says her Herald has fallen ill on the trail, she suspects it was the winter fever currently going around, and she requests that a Healer be sent.:

_:Well, you know I cant stand to see a damsel in distress: _Arin joked. He took the directions from Deri's mind and rang the small bell left by the Healers in case he needed anything.

A few seconds later a Healer came at a run and Arin passed on his message. Since his leg was as good as healed, he offered Deri's and his services to carry the Healer, since he knew the way.

A few short minutes later, Deri, his Herald and a willing Healer were racing through the accumulating snow as Deri reassured Veria that help was on the way.

Veria, lying in the snow, didn't even notice the cold. She crooned softly to Karissa, who had moved from complete unconsciousness into a feverish tossing. Veria would have felt better with a blanket over them or at least something between Karissa and the ground, but she put those thoughts out of her mind as well and concentrated on supporting her fallen Herald, thanking any listening Gods that this had happened now, when their bond was close enough for Veria to lend Karissa energy and hold her condition stable. Companions could not Heal, but they could help.

Veria didn't hear the approaching hoofbeats, and Deri was forced to render her a rude mental shout before she looked up, her expression quickly changing from affront to extreme relief. She sent a mental burst of pure gratitude and staggered to her feet.

The Healer was already dismounting as Arin lifted Karissa into his arms.

"She's stable," the Healer said with relief after doing a fast check, "but she's got a nasty case of the fever. She'll have to be brought to the Temple."

At Veria's direction, Arin lifted the still-unconscious Karissa into her saddle and mounted behind her while Deri carried the Healer.

_:I guess that scorches the Haven idea: _Deri said ruefully. He had been looking forward to a decent rest.

_:Yes, we'll have to take over their circuit. It's a good thing we were here to do so.:_

_:Veria has given us permission to take their supplies and things, so we should be set.:_

When they arrived at the Temple, Arin walked carefully back to his room to retrieve his things, leaving Karissa in the care of the Healer. With reluctance, Veria allowed the Healer to call for help to transport Karissa inside.

As they manhandled her into a bed and carefully fed her a potion which would reduce the symptoms of her illness, Karissa began to come to. She opened her eyes and, seeing the shade of pale green which surrounded her, muttered something which sounded vaguely like "Oh, _shit_," followed by something which the Healers passed off as delirious rambling about how far into Karse she would find herself come morning, then promptly passed out again.

The Healer then took up a position near Karissa's bed and took one of her clammy hands. She began to summon the bright green energy of her Gift, expecting a fairly straightforward job.

Upon touching Karissa's mind in an attempt to sink in far enough to dispel the fever, the Healer was shocked to discover the sheer extent of the shields Karissa had placed around herself. Shields that would not fall in sickness or sleep or even dire illness worse than what was present then. The Healer cautiously touched one, proffering the desire to Heal which usually allowed her to pass through Heraldic patients' wards unharmed. To her surprise, the wards didn't even respond to her "credentials". She called for a more experienced Healer and after a brief examination he concurred with her initial assessment that to take down these shields by force could even be fatal, given the energy contained within them.

Karissa began to regain consciousness again at this inopportune moment and, as though through a haze, she heard the Healer's words.

"It's no wonder she came down with the first passing illness, she's pouring every drop of energy she has straight into those bedamned shields of hers. It's a wonder she gets any use out of her Gifts at all, with that sort of thing going on. In fact, although she shows only a weak Gift of Mindspeaking in practice, I'd hazard my Greens that she should be a very strong Mindspeaker, and would be if she wasn't pouring every scrap of psychic energy elsewhere. At the moment, into fighting anything I try to do for her."

"She'll have to be moved to Haven, then?" The other Healer asked.

"As soon as possible. Ordinarily I would allow her to stay here and try to nurse her back to health without the use of my Gift, but I don't know that she has the energy to fight this off, and she's fighting anything I try to do. She's only lucky the situation didn't explode before this. Besides, she's a Herald. She can't go on like this and we have no MindHealers here. Her Companion can stabilize her for the journey, according to my knowledge of Heralds."

Before passing into potion-induced haze again, Karissa blessed the Gods for the respite this would give her. She would find a way out of this. She felt a momentary pride in the strength of her shields, even through her shame at her inability to accept help from the Healers.

Veria also greeted the decision with relief. Ideally, she would rather not have to move her Chosen, especially not all the way to Haven and half-Healed, but given the spikes of terror she had been subjected to every time Karissa realized where she was, she would be just as glad to have Karissa where the Mindhealers could take care of her.


	27. Arrival

Disclaimer: I don't own nasty fevers that show up along the Border, but I own what happened next.

Anyway, where are we, chapter 27? Now that it's summer, I have more time to update, which is good, because two months between updates isn't all that great. The plot is going somewhere, I'm sort of creating all the loose ends that will eventually tie into my ending, so be patient and all will become clear. I needed to get Karissa both incapacitated and in Haven, preferably in the House of Healing, and, short of illness, it's not so easy to find a legitimate way of injuring a Herald and Companion. In this way, we also got to meet the Herald currently riding the Holderkin circuit, and he will have a part to play later.

In this chapter, we must bear in mind that like Heralds and Bards, some Healers are rather pig headed, although they are all essentially good and helpful people. Just a thought.

Fireblade: Mostly, what's going on with her is her utter inability to allow anyone past her barriers. She also especially doesn't like Healers. We'll get to some more detailed flashbacks about her past in the future, I think.

Tenshi: Thanks! Heh, she'll find herself waking up halfway through Hardorn or something one morning if she doesn't watch herself.

Wizard: Glad you're still reading, yeah, I've been busy with finals and things, but now school's out, so I'm "studying for regents" AKA writing fanfic.

Raynsong: Yup, the Holderkin are plotting nasty plots up there, but I'll sort Karissa out eventually.

Oceanmate: Yes, Karissa is richly deserving of much attention, and I know I haven't updated in a while. For a quick recap, although in a few chapters all will come clear, Karissa doesn't like Healers because when she was young a very close friend of hers died basically before her eyes and she can't help associating Healers and all related symbols with death and misery. She also has an obsessive refusal to be physically or mentally close to anyone and she dislikes feeling helpless, something she also associates with Healers and Healing. As for Treet, although he's a natural Mindhealer, that's not really a path he can go down, since I'm trying to stay on target for a canonical ending. He can and will help Lirain in the future but that will never be his true work.

M3m0rii: Heh, Karissa is one of my favorite characters. Of course, I like them all, so yeah. Glad you're still reading.

Anyways, onwards to the next chapter. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm sort of running out of chapter names, but I'm doing my best. This chapter might even be a fairly long one. I officially sweat blood and tears over this thing trying to make it both believable and dramatic and everything this chapter should, by rights, be. I'm not sure how I did, but I guess we'll find out, because I'm just going to dump it online and not edit any more.

Chapter 27: Arrival

It was a busy day in the House of Healing, even by Treet's standards. The benches which lined the entranceway, usually filled with Healers trying to catch some sort of a nap, were almost all empty, and the somewhat forced utter calmness which, in the House of Healing, was a sign of too many people working on too many patients at the same time, filled the air.

Efficiency, as always, was still the watchword of every Healer in the building. When a Herald was brought in with a bad fever, having been transported all the way from the border, nobody stopped to question this. The nearest free Healer who specialized in fevers and illnesses of all sorts was brought and the new patient was settled into a room.

When the dusty and disheveled Healer who had accompanied the Herald on her journey pulled aside the Healer who was now in charge of her case on his way to her room and informed him of exactly why the Herald had been brought all the way to Haven, the Healer in charge gave him a disdainful look and proceeded into the room anyway. When he emerged a few moments later looking rather disgruntled, he dispatched a messenger. The messenger came back in short order with the senior –and only- Mindhealer and her Trainee. This might have been remarked on, had anyone the time or inclination. Since they didn't, it passed almost unnoticed.

This veritable troop of Healers proceeded into Karissa's room. Rith, never the type to waste words, immediately assessed the situation with a practiced eye.

"Her shields are remarkable, actually. Perhaps we should get her to teach the knack to the rest of the Collegium," Rith laughed.

The dour Healer who had, much to his dismay, found himself in charge of this case, fixed Rith with a glare that utterly failed to quell her. Although he appreciated all that Heralds did for the Kingdom, he rather hated treating them, as they tended to be thoroughly exasperating patients. It looked as though this one would be no exception.

"All I know is that nobody can treat her until someone does something about those shields," the Healer said resolutely.

"It would do better if she were conscious," Rith said. "I'd prefer she deal with the shields by herself, but I imagine she may need some convincing."

"Shan't neither. Don't want to be Healed," Karissa muttered darkly, apparently conscious after all.

"She's been like that all the way here, apparently," the Healer said resignedly. "Perfectly unconscious, but if anyone so much as attempts to Heal her, she'll move land and sea to make her opinions on the subject known."

Rith mentally studied the problem from all angles, which garnered an exasperated snort from the Healer.

"Do you have a suggestion, Healer Thanel?" Rith asked icily. The two of them were not on the best of terms. She saw him as a heavy-handed bungler and he thought her an over sentimental, emotional busybody.

"Her shields can't be too strong for a trained Mindhealer. Shatter them and have done with it," Thanel said irritably. Although his Healing Gift was strong, his Empathy was somewhat less so, and it had turned him rather cold. He usually kept himself away from the more complicated cases, having the good sense to know when he was outclassed.

Rith almost swore at him. "How could I do something like that? Would you have me violate every oath I ever took?"

"You do it all the time to those new Trainees. Doesn't seem to do them any lasting harm," Thanel said callously.

At this comment, even Lirain sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, forbearing to comment on the subject of lasting harm. If there was one thing that could push Rith into a blind fury, it was an insensitive comment on the subject of her work with new Trainees.

Rith firmly reined in her rising temper; she had no desire to upset the patient. Thanel did good work, but he had no understanding of the finer points of the human mind. There was no malice in him, and much honest wish to help others, but sometimes…

"For one thing, I advise that you keep your opinions away from matters you know nothing about, as I do not take anything of the sort so lightly as to do it 'all the time'. In the second place, do you have any idea how much power is contained within those shields you so casually dismiss? If I shattered them, all of that power would backlash through her mind and if she was lucky enough not to be killed by it, she would have the mind of a mushroom for the remainder of her existence and all of us would have to answer to her Companion and to the King, at the least."

Rith spoke calmly by now, almost dispassionately. She, of all people, couldn't afford to allow her temper free reign. Thanel, on the other hand, was flushed and poised to deliver Rith a set down, unaware of how close she was to the edge. Before he could, however, Rith steered him out of the room. "You yourself sent for me, Thanel, which makes this patient as much my responsibility as yours, and I will not have you upsetting her with your displays of temper. Take yourself off and find a less complicated case to meddle with, there is certainly no lack." With that comment, Rith closed the door in his face and moved to stand beside Lirain. They both looked down at the patient.

"Well, first thing is to treat the symptoms, who knows how long it will be before we can figure out this muddle and get someone competent in here," Rith said briskly.

They moved almost , making no complaint about performing duties not technically theirs, and an idea suddenly occurred to Lirain. "Send for Sera and Treet," she suggested. "Treet knows her and if anyone can get past this mess, it will be him. Sera is experienced enough to make sure he does no harm and he may well do some good." She tried to couch her statement with detachment and almost succeeded. She tried not to realize how vulnerable the usually unassailable Herald Karissa truly was, just as she steered her mind away from the subject of Treet. The strengths of a Mindhealer lay precisely in their human compassion, but detachment was a necessary quality to cultivate as well, she told herself sternly.

Rith, ignoring Lirain's obvious emotional distress for the moment, considered the idea. "That has merit, actually." Lirain and Rith left the room after a few reassuring words to Karissa, who was still obstinately insisting that she would have nothing of any Healers. After finding someone to carry a message, Lirain went off in search of one of her other cases, sternly refusing to bump into Treet.

Treet and Sera, although they should have been the busiest of all, were in fact idle. The Healers currently working had drafted mostly everyone else, but Treet and Sera had been left to deal with any sudden accidents that came in.

Treet sighed. He wondered if Lirain was as busy as he was. They hadn't talked since _that_ night, although he often had the sense that she was very close by, simply out of sight. They weren't fighting, exactly, but he knew she disapproved of his visit to his family. He would be leaving in a few days. When he came back and she saw that nothing bad had happened to him, she would come around, Treet told himself firmly.

Sera, who had responded to a call from another Healer, came running back with the message that they were to take over a difficult case from one of the others. She sent Treet running after the necessary medicines, after briefing him that the patient was a Herald who had fallen ill on circuit with some sort of a fever.

Treet mechanically headed off to fetch appropriate potions and bring them to the correct room, wondering why this unknown Herald had been brought all the way to Haven for treatment, if it was only a fever. Usually, patients with infectious illnesses were moved as little as possible to prevent contamination, and Healing one of them was not generally an overly complicated task.

Treet had his back turned decanting a potion to induce calm rest and reduce headache and fever. As he turned with the potion and approached the figure lying on the bed, he found himself staring directly into a face he recognized, hard edged even in unconsciousness, fringed with ice blonde hair which had been allowed to grow a little, and eyes which he knew, when open, would be a pale blue. The skin, usually pale despite Karissa's active life, seemed full of an unnaturally high color.

Treet staggered backwards in shock, only long practice keeping the potion in his hand from shattering on the floor.

"Tretin, she needs you," Sera said in a tone that could only be identified as command. Sera had known from the beginning, as she made it her business to know whatever might pertain to her Trainees, that Treet knew the Herald being brought back from the border. Ordinarily, she might have spared him, but she knew of his close association with Karissa and also knew that only a Healer with a close tie would have even a leaf's chance in a hurricane of getting past shields of the sort Sera had been appraised of. There was also the small fact, which Sera had learned from Rith immediately after Treet had become her pupil, that Treet was a strong natural Mindhealer. This would do nothing but help the case and to Sera the patient always came first, even at the expense of her own or another Healer's well-being.

"You have no room for sentimentality," Sera continued in a hard voice. "You know how she feels about us, and her shields reflect that feeling in no uncertain terms. Her condition was stable but she has endured being moved here and the weather isn't exactly pleasant, if you hadn't noticed. You'll have to do what you can with her."

Treet's face reflected a deadly uncertainty. He had never done a full Healing by himself, much less on someone he knew, someone he cared about.

Sera's voice softened a little. "I know the stakes seem high to you now, Treet, but the stakes are always high." She took the potion from his unresisting hand and held Karissa's head as she drank it, which Karissa did after the realization that her hand wasn't strong enough to push the mug away.

Treet took a deep, centering breath as he had been taught, trying to close out Karissa's panic, which she was sharing with the entire room, barriers to the contrary. Treet was glad that Sera had insisted that he learn the rudiments of Healing in each discipline, in case something like this came up.

He reached for Karissa's hand, holding it as she tried to pull away. Physical contact tended to make Healing easier, as it created a direct conduit for the energy which needed to flow. Treet was barely himself now, he was apart from fear and uncertainty, he was simply a Healer.

As Karissa felt the deft touch of his Gift, she began to thrash wildly, expending what energy she had left and breaking Treet's concentration. Sera contemplated restraining her and discarded the notion almost before it was fully formed.

_:That potion of yours isn't going to do the trick, child.: _Veria thought at Treet with exasperated amusement which covered a deep fear for her Chosen.

_:Who: _Treet, although not a Mindspeaker, formulated the thought clearly in his mind and waited.

_:Veria, of course. I'm going to knock her cold. Yes, I can, although it isn't exactly encouraged, and I can keep her completely unconscious until you're through, which leaves you with only her shields to contend with. I'm afraid I cant do much of anything about those.:_ Veria explained.

A few seconds later, Karissa went limp and the spikes of emotion which had been emanating from her mind faded, a relief to both Treet and Sera. Refusing to allow himself to be distracted, Treet took Karissa's now unresisting hand again.

He didn't have to look for her shields; they bumped into him, bristling with hostility and defiance.

He did the first thing he had been taught to do when treating a Heraldic patient. He formed a small glowing ball of his Healing Gift and proffered it towards the shields, imbued with his sincere desire to help and aid. The shields, if anything, bristled at him even more.

_'I am a friend,'_ he told them wordlessly. They offered back only disbelief. He didn't even have to think. It was as though he knew exactly what to do. He offered the taste of the Waystation where he had unsnarled Karissa's nightmare, the scent of their long days together upon the road. He offered the memories of stories shared and questions answered. He offered their friendship, built hastily but on firm ground, and after an agonizing moment of deliberation, the shields relaxed just slightly. It was enough for him.

With deft mental fingers, Treet probed Karissa's body, looking for infection, which he quickly found. To his eye, it looked as though she hadn't fought it off at all. Her body's defenses lay tired and limp while the fever took over.

The first thing Treet did was inject new vigor into these defenses, feeding them with his own energy and sending them out to fight for him. Then he began to rally them into the worst pockets of infection to destroy them, one by one, crushing the small lives which choked Karissa's own.

He was almost consumed in his passion; he could barely feel Sera diligently feeding him her own energy when his began to falter. He couldn't directly pass Karissa's barriers to help with the Healing, but he fed her body so much energy that it did the job it had been neglecting with enough enthusiasm to make up for its lapse.

The glowing pockets of infection which, outside of a Healing trance, would have terrified Treet utterly, began to fade, leaving behind only a faint miasma which would leave Karissa too weak to move from bed for the better part of a moon, as Treet was unable to pass her shields enough to fully burn out the infection and so had had to channel all the energy he had used directly through her body, which would have to do the rest of the job on its own.

With an exhausted sigh, Treet broke the trance, swaying on his feet. Veria loosed her hold on Karissa, who then slipped into a more natural sleep, aided by the potion and her exhaustion. She would awaken after a long sleep still ill, but fully able to maintain consciousness and in no further danger.

Sera patted Treet on the shoulder and told him he had done an admirable job, but he barely heard her words. All of the calm he had experienced while actually Healing had fled, leaving him feeling empty and cold. What had he done? How could he continue to do this, never knowing who he would see next, what pale pain-tightened faces would next appeal to him for help he might not be able to give? He knew Karissa's nightmares almost as intimately as she herself, how could he risk causing something like that? Would it be better to never Heal at all, never to risk faltering and failing?

He knew, deep inside, that it was hypocritical of him. By now, he had assisted in the Healings of countless strangers, although he had never taken the lead role before. Yet, how could he know whether he would do more harm than good, some day?

He began to look forward, with desperate passion, to leaving, to visiting his family, to time alone to decide what he would be. Every time he thought he was secure, every time he thought he finally knew, without a doubt, what he would become, something had to slip between him and his certainty once more.


	28. Warnings

Disclaimer: I'm not sure if I have to disclaim Tretin or not. Mercedes Lackey gave him a paragraph, I gave him a twenty eight (and counting) chapter story. For the more clear cut cases, some stuff is mine and some isn't. I guess you all probably have it figured out by now.

Heh, I'm working on a couple of angsty oneshots as well as this story, since those seem to be going around these days, and also I just felt like writing some. Chapter 28 of this takes precedence though. Look how good I am being about updating! Yay! Lol, we shall see how long it takes to sort out all the messes I'm shoving my characters in left and right.

The review stream appears to have dried up for this chapter, though. Is everyone too busy to read FanFiction all of a sudden?

Tenshi: Glad you thought that chapter came out ok, its good to have a second opinion. Sometimes when I start to over edit I can't tell anymore if I'm going where I should be.

In case anyone noticed and was wondering, Karissa has gotten rather worse over the span of the story. After Treet patched her up a little bit, she snarled herself right back up again and worse than before as well. The shields don't help it either and those are a fairly new development. All will become clear with Karissa soon, though.

Anyhow. Guys, if you're reading this, review! It makes me happy, and it makes me want to write faster! Update on the final chapter count – it looks as though we may hit forty chapters after all, I had to tweak my outline a bit. Anyway, without further ado, I give you chapter 28!

Chapter 28: Warnings

True to form, the first thing Karissa tried upon waking was a violent attempt to throw herself out of bed. For a moment she had no idea where she was, only that she was blessedly clear headed and had had some horrible nightmare about a fever, a bunch of Healers and a long trip to Haven. Sight blurred, she blinked. Almost instantly the smell of the room she was in and the soothing color of the walls told her that at least some of what had happened to her hadn't been a dream. She then attempted to throw herself out of her bed and deliver a pounding to whoever had put her there. Much to her surprise, she found that she could barely lift her head off of her pillow, much less pound anyone.

The second thing she attempted to do was eminently more sensible. Somewhat timidly, after she quickly wondered how the weather in mid-Karse was, she mentally reached for Veria, who she found in a surprisingly good temper. Well, if you discounted the blistering mental shout as merely formulaic.

_:Have you any idea how you terrified me? You simply passed out almost directly on the Border. Of all the pig ignorant, stubborn,utterly _Heraldic_ things to do:_ Veria blasted, having been planning this lecture for most of a moon.

_:What did I do: _Karissa asked confusedly, still trying to sort out dreams from fact. She had either abandoned Veria and ran miles through the forest pursued by green furred monsters, or she had fallen ill of some sort of fever and refused to be Healed.

Karissa could almost hear Veria's snort all the way from Companion's Field. She certainly felt it. _:You rushed off into a fever-stricken village. You refused to allow the kind Healer you fetched to ascertain whether you had actually contracted anything. You then threatened to walk to Haven yourself in order to get away from her. You fell off of my back and passed out, burning with fever. I had to call another Companion to bring a Healer to you. You utterly refused to allow any of the Healers at the temple to Heal you, and your shields stopped them quite nicely from trying anything so foolhardy as assisting you. I then had to pour a constant stream of energy into you to keep you safe until we could get you to Haven, where you again refused to let anyone near you, forcing me to knock you unconscious, for which privilege I had to have a very nice conversation with the Groveborn, since that's not exactly something I'm supposed to do. Then, when a certain Trainee Healer of yours finally managed to Heal you, since you wouldn't have anyone else, you forced the aforementioned Trainee to channel energy through your own immune system since even he couldn't get fully past those fortress shields of yours. As a result, you should have plenty of time to think on the consequences of your actions, as you will probably be too weak to move for weeks yet.: _Veria said, deeming it prudent not to mention the Healers' discoveries about the strength of Karissa's Gift. Veria, of course, had always known that Karissa should be a strong Mindspeaker, but had only recently discovered exactly how Karissa was blocking her own Gift.

_:In fact: _Veria continued meditatively, _:Perhaps you should be glad you cannot move from that bed, because if I could get my hooves on you, you _would_ find yourself in mid-Karse.: _

_:Oh.:_ Memories were coming back to Karissa, slowly but surely.

_:Chosen, darling: _Veria continued in a gentler tone. _:Mostly, when people become Heralds, they leave their past behind them. Often their pasts are as painful as yours, some are more so. Don't you think it might be time to let go:_

_:If I thought so, I would have done it by now, wouldn't I: _Karissa asked acerbically, definitively ending that line of questioning.

_:Maybe you just need a little help. You know, Haven has a very good Mindhealer. She might like to visit with you. I'm sure you two would have a lot to talk about. You might even find it interesting.:_ Veria offered cautiously.

_:Don't cozen me, Veria! I know fine well what you want me to do; you want me to let that woman muck around in my mind until there isn't anything left of what I am or used to be. The Terilee will turn to wine before I allow that, I swear it: _Karissa said angrily.

Veria simply sighed. It wasn't a new argument between her and her Chosen.

_:Veria, how long do I have to stay here for: _Karissa asked in a frightened tone a few minutes later. _:I want out.:_

_:You'll be too weak to move for the next moon, Chosen, you need to be where the Healers can keep an eye on you. You were sicker than you know, and moving you all the way to Haven didn't help.:_

If Karissa had had the energy, she would probably have shrieked or thrown something. She could see a deliciously fragile looking glass beaker of water that would have made a satisfying crash as it hit those annoyingly green walls. Who would be laughing then? Unfortunately, the beaker lay just out of Karissa's reach and anyway, she knew that she shouldn't make trouble for the Healers.

_:Veria, I don't want to be here: _Karissa wailed silently, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. Karissa rarely cried, but in this situation she just couldn't help it. Just the thought of being constantly under the eye of a Healer made her feel like being violently sick. At any moment, they could come in, touch her, poke at her. Every instant she spent in this building made her feel as though the Shadow Lover himself was hanging over her. She knew, of course, that he was, that he would be every day of her life, but she wished his presence were a little less obvious.

_:Chosen, you're shouting: _Veria reminded Karissa gently.

This reply frustrated Karissa almost limitlessly. Even her Companion couldn't understand. Karissa closed out Veria as totally as she could and turned her face into the pillow, fighting a losing battle against the half-hysterical tears of fear and misery that threatened to overwhelm her façade of calmness.

She was lost to the world for some undefined amount of time after that until she heard someone open her door. Glad that she usually cried silently and that illness was a handy excuse for a face marked by tears, Karissa grasped her emotions with an iron will and ruthlessly suppressed them, stopping the tears and lying as if asleep.

Karissa's rigid posture gave her away instantly, and even if it hadn't, not even a marginal Empath could mistake the aura of the room for the gentle rhythms of sleep.

Treet pushed open the door with some trepidation. All day, he had eagerly awaited the dinner hour, having secured the privilege of bringing Karissa her evening tray. Now that the moment was upon him, however, he wondered if she would want to see him. And even if she did, how could he bear to see her? Knowing Karissa, she might deeply resent him for having Healed her, as if he didn't have enough doubts on his own.

Karissa couldn't hate Treet. When she slowly raised her head far enough to see him in his Trainee Greens, she even felt a touch of pride, although he had almost become that which she feared most. Any other impersonal, Green clad figure, she could have feared, but never Treet.

So, when he approached her cautiously, as though he thought she might bite, she gave him a weary smile. After all, he had food and she was starving! She couldn't remember the last time she had been so hungry.

"Treet," she greeted him.

"Yes, Herald," he replied, nervousness plain on his face.

"It hasn't been that long, you know," she told him conversationally. "Besides, this is supposed to go the other way around. You know, the way where I act all hostile and you uphold our friendship."

Treet looked blank. Was she still delirious?

Karissa sighed. "I'm not 'Herald' to you, Treet, never to you. I do have a name, you know, and I recall giving you permission to use it."

Treet offered her a shy smile and moved a little closer, taking a seat near Karissa's bed. "Yes, Karissa," he replied. "I even brought you food, you should certainly forgive me for everything. I imagine you're hungry."

Karissa didn't bother pretending to wonder what she should forgive him for, but neither did she want to bring up the subject of her Healing, it was still too raw.

She noticed a change in Treet. He had learned to banter, to some degree. She wondered if it was Lirain's influence. She nodded at him. "I think I could eat a pair of roast oxen."

Treet pushed the tray closer to Karissa. It was a simple vegetable soup and soft bread, invalid's fare. "I ought to help you sit up."

Karissa made a face. She knew she was too weak to sit up unassisted but above all else she despised being helpless. Some modicum of strength had returned to her since her awakening, but not nearly enough to do much more than move her arms.

Treet assisted her in silence, as impersonally as he could. He was just waiting for her to snap at him or throw him out of her room, dinner be damned. As soon as she was settled, however, she seemed ready to forget the entire affair.

"I can feed myself," she told him tartly, making sure to make this clear before he got any ideas about aiding the 'poor invalid Herald'. She was strong enough for that. And if her hands shook a little or the spoon slipped a few times and deposited soup in her lap or on the tray instead of in her mouth, well there was nobody to notice.

As she ate, Karissa tried to catch up a little bit with Treet. He filled her in on most of what had happened since he had arrived at the Collegium. Finally, when Karissa was almost finished, she asked him the question she hadn't really wanted to know the answer to. "How long have I been in here?"

"This is the fifth day," Treet replied. "I Healed you on the first and you slept for three, recovering from the rest of the fever. You woke a little to take potions, but you barely ate, which is why you're so hungry now. On the good side of the ledgers, however, you appear to have completely rid yourself of whatever you contracted, but you'll have to stay here until you're strong enough to leave."

Karissa was silent for a moment. "So Veria tells me," she said finally in a dry tone. "Right through Midwinter break?"

"Sera believes that would be best, and she is nominally in charge of your case at the moment," Treet said gently.

"Because of you." Karissa said. It was not a question.

Treet nodded but didn't make any move to discuss the subject further.

"Ah well," Karissa said, "it's not as though I had anyone to spend Midwinter with anyway." It could have been self-pitying, but it was simply a statement of a fact. "Will you come and visit me?"

Treet avoided her eyes. He knew he would have to go through all of his arguments again and he didn't feel quite up to it. "I'm going home."

"You're going _where_?" Karissa asked him, sure she had misheard.

"I'm going to see my family. They sent me a letter saying that they understood that I am different from them, but that they want to mend our bridges, so to speak. And I want to go. They're my family, still."

Karissa just looked at him for a long moment. She hadn't seen her own family since her first year as a Trainee, when they had come looking for her. After meeting with them she had sworn that she would never do so again. She couldn't bear to see the knowledge of loss in their eyes, to be reminded each time she looked at them of what they had all lost.

She remembered clearly Treet's joy at being told that he could leave his family. She knew, to some degree, what he must have endured, but he seemed to have forgotten.

"I need to have an end to this," Treet said. "I need to know how things stand. The worst they can do is throw a few insults my way and I've borne worse."

Karissa could almost understand his feeling. She and her family had had no such closure, no grand clap of thunder to clear the air. They had simply drifted apart. Karissa made quiet inquiries after them sometimes and she supposed they did the same. They were healthy, that was as much as she knew.

"Treet," she began quietly.

"I'm going!" Treet interrupted hotly. "I have to!"

"I know you do, Tretin," Karissa said, almost sadly. She didn't know what the Holderkin wanted with their lost sheep, but she knew it couldn't be good. Treet would have to learn that for himself, however. By the laws of Valdemar, she couldn't bar him from going, not even the Dean could do that.

"You do?" Treet asked. He had been preparing for a fight, but it hadn't come.

"Yes. Only remember, the Holderkin do not easily let go their death grip on what they see as theirs, no matter how hard they have to squeeze in order to fit that thing into the 'proper' mold."

Treet glanced down at the floor. He knew that Karissa was right, but what else could he do?

"I will see you when I return," he said defiantly. "I'll tell you all about it, and by then, perhaps, you will be well again."

Karissa certainly hoped so. Even more so, she hoped that Treet would be as well as she.


	29. The Border

Disclaimer: I really need to get a minion to do this for me. Anyway, I don't own. Velgarth and all associated are sadly Mercedes Lackey's toys and not mine. Luckily, she's a good sharer.

More reviews came in for this chapter, luckily. It occurred to me, I posted two chapters very close together and nothing was posted in the ML fandom on fanfiction between the chapters. I don't know, but did anyone accidently not read chapter 27? Because it was sort of important, so if you missed it, go back and read it.

Fireblade: I guess ate your review? Or, did you read chapter 27? As I mentioned, I posted 27 and 28 very close together, so maybe you missed it. As to longer chapters, I try to make them around six pages in word, but I usually stop where the plot wants to stop. I tend to favor quick updates over long chapters, but I'll try to make them longer.

Tenshi: Treet should definitely stay home and wait on Karissa. Also Karissa and/or Lirain should sit on him until he sees sense. Unfortunately, its not going to happen.

Wizard: Yup, forty. I'm pretty proud of that number myself, finishing this story will be a huge accomplishment. Of course, it'll leave a gaping hole in my life as well, but I'm sure I'll find a new tale to fill it in with.

Ranysong: I think Companions pretty much are the Valdemaran equivalent of saints, only more human and less saintly. Don't worry, snarky Karissa will be back in action soon.

Oceanmate: Nope, Karissa wont be riding off to rescue anyone any time soon. Lirain and their Lifebond will be key in this, though. Glad you liked my chapters.

Anyway, chapter 29 has us moving back into the familiar world of Treet, leaving Karissa to stew in her angst for a couple chapters or thereabouts. Treet has abandoned the Collegium for the moment and is riding off to see his family, who he assumes will welcome him with open arms. He is, as everyone correctly surmised, about to have his hopes rudely dashed. We shall see where this all is leading.

This chapter is mostly just a lot of exposition about how things stand with Treet and Lirain which has to be gone through before I explode everything, so enjoy as best as you can. I know it took a while to get this chapter out and I apologize. This one was very difficult for me to write, for some reason.

Again, if you didn't read chapter 27 because I posted two very close together, please do so.

Chapter 29: The Border

More than anything else, Treet remembered her face. He had been accustomed to seeing it at least once a day, although recently it had always been from afar. Since he and Lirain were apart, his mind seemed determined to supply him with an equivalent sighting at least once a Candlemark.

He tried to tell himself it was all in his mind, but he wasn't so sure anymore. She didn't look well. Her face seemed pale and pinched with worry. Worry, Treet irrationally felt, for him. Their leave-taking hadn't been the most satisfactory of things.

He had been dressed in his Trainee Greens, although he wouldn't be working at the House of Healing again for another moon. He refused to dress in Holderkin style clothing and would have done the same had he actually owned any clothing other than his Greens. Some defiant impulse had told him that he should go among them as a partial-stranger, a Healer in Training, not as the scruffy Holderkin boy they had cast off so long ago as a pair of outgrown shoes.

His Greens would also afford him protection in one of the villages outside of Holderkin lands, should he need it, or so said the little voice in his mind that told him that all this would somehow go badly wrong before the moon was out. He had been provided with the Waytokens usually given to traveling Healers and Heralds, but he had mostly been too shy to use them. He had slept rough in the woods, using the tokens for provisions as necessary only.

More often than not he had bad dreams, of the type he had not had since his first moon as the Collegium. How long ago that seemed, although it had really only been half of a year at most! He felt older, certain that should he encounter the ghost of himself riding the roads he tread upon, his doppelganger wouldn't be able to recognize him.

The evening before Treet had left, he had wandered almost aimlessly around the Collegium, secretly hoping to see Lirain. He had finally encountered her, stumbling back to her room completely exhausted. She hadn't had it in her heart to be cold to him and they had ended up talking halfway through the night, although they had not talked at all about his impending departure.

Their exchange, it seemed to Treet now, had been rather desperate. Lirain, at least, had had an air of someone trying to hold on to something slipping inexorably away from her, and Treet had had the same feeling himself. Whenever they were together the air seemed charged with tension and it had been doubly so that night, as though there was something they were supposed to see or do, something just out of their reach.

When it had come time for Treet to leave, Lirain had simply looked at him for a long moment before turning away. She wondered under what circumstances they would meet again and then scolded herself for being overly melodramatic.

After days of riding through unfamiliar territory, Treet had been riding long enough that he might actually encounter some areas he recognized. He wasn't sure how to feel about this. When he looked around and saw the brightly colored market where he had met Herald Karissa for the first time, he felt a curious sense of not exactly homecoming, more like affinity. He had only been there once, but it had turned out, unbeknownst to all, to be the gate to Treet's new life. A turning point, so to speak. He had ridden in on a common Holderkin horse, plain as the grass she ate, and ridden out on a Companion. How many could boast that?

As Treet thought that, he sat bolt upright in his saddle. The horse! What had he done with the horse? It hadn't occurred to him in all of the moons of getting settled into his new life but as he remembered he realized that he had entered the market with a horse and exited without one. He smiled a little wryly. That certainly wouldn't have endeared him to his Father, who had probably been more peeved at the loss of the horse than at the loss of his fairly useless and rather unmanly son. Treet laughed to himself. He had been too shocked at being picked up and carted off by a Herald to worry about the horse, and Herald Karissa wasn't exactly the type to care.

He entertained a brief thought of running down to the marketplace and asking after his horse, but he soon dismissed that as a foolish notion. He doubted that anyone would remember one leftover horse at the end of a day many moons previous. The poor thing had probably been taken and sold off by some trader. He only hoped she was being well cared for, wherever she was.

Treet continued to ride. He wished he could just think of nothing in particular and let the naggingly familiar scenery pass him by, but his mind was running in insistent circles from fear to anxiety to elation to excitement and back again.

On one hand, he felt more secure in his identity than he had ever been before. On the long lonely journey he had had a lot of time to think. At first, he had been unsure if he ever wanted to return to the Collegium. He had remembered how he had felt after Healing Karissa, how uncertain in his own abilities he had felt. What if all of that power was too much for him to bear? What if he hurt someone, or failed to Heal someone who needed it? How would he live with himself?

He had tangled with that idea for a few days, and it had been a long and lonely struggle. He tortured himself with hundreds of scenarios, trying to decide how he would react to letting someone down, to causing pain and suffering when he was trying to help and Heal.

It had occurred to him one night like a hammer to the head, only without the corresponding concussion. He might fail, he might do harm, but there were two very good reasons why he should continue anyway, two reasons which outweighed a hundred reasons to leave. First, no matter how much suffering he inadvertently caused, and he would work his hardest to minimize that, it would be feathers weighed up against the amount of good he could do, good which might not be done otherwise.

The other reason was that Treet had, literally, a Gift for Healing. In his time at the House of Healing, even when he was only washing out empty potion containers or cleaning out animal cages, he was immersed in a work that he loved, a work which called out to him as nothing in his life ever had before. No matter how much hardship that life brought him, how could he give it up knowing the level of satisfaction and fulfillment it gave him as well?

He was going back. This was his place, this was where he belonged. It was hard for him to believe now that he had even briefly considered throwing it all away. He simply hoped that his father would be proud of what he would be able to do with his life.

It was in this optimistic and enthusiastic state of mind that Treet entered the lands that had once been his home. As he passed through the fields, they were emptier than he remembered. The few who were working, all males, which surprised him after so long at the Collegium, turned their faces from him and pretended not to see him.

Treet couldn't help being somewhat disheartened by this. 'I guess I assumed they would all welcome me,' he thought. He knew that it had been foolish. In his moons away, he had somehow forgotten how the Holderkin were, had written off or forgiven all of their actions with the aid of a memory blunted by time and distance.

He wondered if he had done the right thing, coming back. Maybe it would have been better if he had simply let go of his past, as almost everyone had urged him to do. He pushed that doubt out of his mind. He was here now, and he would meet whatever came. He would see his mother, at least. She had always cared for him.

As he reached the collection of buildings where he knew he would find his family, his stomach flipped and he felt vaguely sick. Obviously someone who had seen him riding through the outlying fields had run ahead and informed his father of his imminent arrival. He told himself that it was far too late to turn back now, but seeing that more people than just his father awaited him, Treet rather wanted to.

He recognized some faces. It hadn't been that long since he had left. His mother was absent, he noted sadly. In fact, there wasn't a single woman in the crowd, except for one, standing with his father. She was hardly old enough to be called a woman, at least by Treet's standards, but he knew she was probably old enough to get married. The subject of girls had always been a fairly abstract one for him. It wasn't that he preferred those of his own sex – they held little attraction for him either. There were a few of those among his village, he assumed, and at least one that he knew of for sure. It was simply as though nobody he had ever met held the type of attraction for him that he was looking for. Almost nobody, anyway, but Treet wasn't going to think about that.

He dismounted as he reached the crowd and someone took his horse. It wasn't a comforting gesture; it simply reminded him that he had no road of escape.

His father looked exactly the same as he always had. He looked like everything Treet had never been. He was strong and sturdily build, where Treet had never been. Everything about him exuded confidence and command, as well as a certain air of brutality, which came as an unpleasant reminder to Treet of exactly how much he had suffered in this place.

As he approached his father, he had a sudden urge to kneel or bow or something, as well as a sudden certainty that wrath was about to descend – probably on him. His father didn't exactly look pleased to see him.

"Tretin!" He boomed, as soon as Treet was close enough to grab. "What on earth do you mean by coming here in that girl's outfit, boy?"

Treet supposed that from far away, the bruising clasp his father had on his arm might have seemed friendly.

"Boy, perhaps if you change instantly into something befitting your gender, rather than debasing yourself, and behave yourself adequately at your wedding ceremony tonight, I shall omit to punish you for this infraction. Whatever ungodly habits you learned among those heathens shall stop tonight, or I shall give you such a beating as you've never had in your life!" This last sentence was hissed into Treet's ear, accompanied by flecks of spit.

Treet tried to wrench away, the impact of his father's words not quite sinking in. "No, you don't understand, I'm only visiting. I came for my holidays. I have to go back to the Collegium next week."

Treet's father smacked him across the face. "Never mention that abominable place here again. I am responsible for your fate, not you. Just because some unworthy Herald of Valdemar, and a female one at that, or so the letter we received told us, chose to kidnap you and seduce you to her wicked ways, does not mean that you will be allowed to bring shame upon us all by living in Haven, that heart of depravity."

Treet stopped struggling, as every time he moved his father simply tightened his grip on Treet's shoulder, and Treet had a feeling that soon something might break.

"Now, I present to you your Firstwife, Bessa. She came with a substantial Brideprice. Of course, I shall provide you with land to start your own Steading."

A small, pinch-faced girl was then ushered forward for Treet's inspection. He couldn't help comparing her to Lirain. There was no merry twinkle in this girl's eyes, no glimmer of good humor. She held herself stiffly and refused to meet his gaze. His heart cried out that she was only a child. Her mind was as blank and dead as stone, there was none of that instant communion he felt with Lirain, or even the presence he felt from the other Trainees. When he cautiously extended his empathy, he was shocked not only by the atmosphere of hostility around him but by the utter despondency present in his supposed betrothed.

Treet had almost stopped being shocked by the situation he had found himself in. He had no thought left for shock or betrayal or even anger – he simply reacted.

"I won't marry her! I wont marry at all! I thought you understood!" The last, ripped from him almost involuntarily, earned him another openhanded slap. Treet's eyes stung, not entirely from physical pain, although he knew that tears would do his cause no good.

"You are a disgrace to the Holderkin. We are trying to bring you back from your depravity, but I can see that you have already been too far corrupted. You will marry this girl, you may as well become accustomed to that idea." Treet's father growled at him before pushing him away roughly.

"Will he not marry the girl, then?" Another man, who Treet vaguely recognized and who looked a lot like Treet's father, asked in a rather hostile fashion.

"Oh, he'll marry her," Treet's father assured him. "He'll marry her if I have to drag him to the altar myself."

With that, Treet's father picked Treet up bodily and carried him into their house. Before closing his eyes and refusing to look anymore, Treet saw most of his brothers standing so as to get the best view and he was almost grateful for his father's bulk between them and him. He also caught a glimpse of his mother; her face was almost blank except for a telltale shine to her eyes.

Treet's father unceremoniously threw him down the stairs to the storage cellar, where Treet did a rather neat head over heels and landed in a pile of vegetables. Head spinning, he didn't even try to get up, barely hearing his father telling him that he'd be back before the wedding to beat some reason into him if he hadn't seen it by then.

Treet only had one last thought before everything faded into blackness. "How did everything go this badly wrong?"


	30. Night

Disclaimer: No profit is being made from my playtime in the world of Mercedes Lackey.

Anyway. I'm at two hundred reviews, which is madly exciting to me, even though fanfiction seems to have eaten at least one so far. This last chapter got more reviews than any other one that I remember. I should totally have my main characters dragged off by evil Holderkin more often if this is what I get for it!

Fireblade: Oops. I guess FF ate the review after all. Oh well. And yes, fairly bad. They'll get wind of it in Haven soon and there shall be interesting plot developments.

Lurks in Shadows: What, the old sandbag to the head shanghai-ing? You didn't see it? I hope I made everything happen in a believable way. I was worried that it might seem a bit too dramatic but then, it is the Holderkin we're talking about.

Raynsong: As usual, someone else will end up coming to Treet's rescue. Many someones, in fact.

dbookluvr17: Glad you're enjoying my story. Hopefully the next few chapters'll be a little bit easier to write than this one was.

Alacaeriel: Treet's father isn't going to be happy. I'm thinking of serving up a little royal justice. I think everyone'll agree that it's richly deserved.

Wishing: Yup, large mess, but of course its obvious that he's going to get out of it and I guess its not too hard to get some idea of how. But hopefully its still interesting to read about.

Oceanmate: Ah, have a little faith in the author. I'm not about to kill off my main character. I like him too much.

Anyway. I had issues with the last chapter, as I mentioned, but I already have a vision for this next chapter, so maybe it'll get better. It is, after all, chapter 30, which seems to me to be a fairly auspicious number for a chapter.

Chapter 30: Night

Lirain had felt desperately uneasy all day and Rith had finally had to give her the day off, since she had been good for absolutely nothing in the way of Mindhealing. Having finally gotten to sleep, she tossed and turned restlessly. A soft sound of sobbing called out to her, pulling at her, just below the level at which she would actually awaken, but too loudly for her to actually sleep. She hovered between the two extremes for what seemed like an eternity as waves of pain and despair washed over her, so deep within herself that she could almost believe they were her own.

At last she managed to pull herself out of her restive doze. She covered her ears, but it was no good. The insistent sound was coming from within her, although it wasn't hers. Sleep fogged, she had a hard time thinking of who it could be. As a powerful Empath, she had been awakened by many such occurrences over the years, usually someone within the Collegia who needed help. Never before, however, had they been so faint. This one was so faint she had a hard time even concentrating on it. As though it were coming from the border or something, she thought with a laugh. Then she froze. The border! Treet had been gone long enough to reach the Holderkin lands.

Without a thought to the fact that she was wearing nothing but a nightgown and that it was well before dawn, Lirain ran outside, hoping the faint almost-Mindspeech would become clearer in the open air. Once outside, she sat down in the damp grass just outside of the House of Healing and concentrated with all of her strength.

As soon as she did, she knew without a doubt that it was Treet and that he was in trouble. Her MindSpeech was very weak, but their Lifebond would hopefully boost it far enough. _:Treet:_ She sent, hoping that he would hear her.

_:What…: _The voice that answered her, although so bleak that Lirain wanted to cry, was most definitely that of her beloved. Although not prone to fainting, Lirain's relief right then was so great that she almost swooned.

Lirain cast through and rejected several possible responses. An I-told-you-so was certainly out of the question. Asking if he was alright would be fairly redundant, since it was obvious that he wasn't. She could barely hear him and after having been called out of her bed after approximately two candlemarks of sleep, Lirain was hardly in the mood to be anything other than blunt. _:I'll get you out of whatever it is. Tell me everything.:_ She demanded.

When Treet first came back to consciousness surrounded by root vegetables and scratchy burlap sacks, it took him a second to remember what he was doing there. All the memories of his disastrous attempt at reconciliation came back to him, aided by various ugly bruises already beginning to swell and turn livid and a persistent throbbing in his shoulder. He simultaneously moaned and cringed in humiliation and panic. How could he have been so stupid? If he had brought away one lesson from his childhood, it would have been never, never ever to trust anyone in his family. Apparently, he hadn't even managed to bring away that. How idiotic was he, how unworthy of all the training he had been given? He was almost glad that he would never return home again, never see his teachers, his classmates, never Heal, never see Lirain…

This last thought nearly broke his heart and it was only years of iron discipline that kept him from simply collapsing on the floor and sobbing his heart out. The first and only time he had allowed his father to see him crying had been the prelude to one of the harshest punishments of his life.

He had no idea what time it was or what was happening outside and he didn't really care. He knew that if he didn't marry Bessa, someone older and more brutal probably would, but he couldn't stomach the thought of spending the remainder of his life with that blank eyed cow. It was probably his punishment for getting himself caught up in such a mess in the first place, he thought. Who would want him back anyway? Oh, they all pretended to like him well enough, but how could they? How could they like someone like him?

When he heard Lirain's voice, he assumed it was some kind of hallucination induced by emotional stress. He had read about those. But he wanted her so badly and he was so afraid. What harm could it do to respond? It was better, after all, that the real Lirain couldn't reach him. She would only be disgusted.

He hesitated a moment before spilling the entire story of his situation, but then he figured that talking to a figment of his own imagination couldn't do any harm. It would certainly pass the time.

_:I think I did something monumentally stupid, actually. I walked into a trap, I suppose. A large snare. They took my horse. And locked me in a cellar. They want me to get married. And be one of them again. They want it so badly that I'm apparently stuck in the family potato cellar until I agree to it. I think my wedding is sometime tomorrow.: _He replied to her demand for information.

Treet was proud of the humorous twist he had put on his predicament, but he knew it wouldn't fool anyone for a minute, much less himself.

Lirain snorted at this message, despite her worry. He was absolutely maddening. He thought he was talking to his imagination. She had no objections to using this to get information, however. _:Are you hurt:_

_:Not too badly. Yet. Does it matter: _Treet replied.

If Lirain had had mental hands, they would have been shaking. She had known that Treet had never been confident, but he was reacting as if all of his months at the Collegium had never happened at all, and most worrisome of all, the tang of physical pain as well as emotional flavored their bond. He could have Healed himself. The fact that he hadn't was almost as worrying as the fact that he was in physical pain in the first place.

_:Of course it matters! You have the power to Heal yourself, at least fix whatever's serious. You can hardly escape with your wits fractured by injury.: _Lirain suggested.

_:Escape? Why:_

_:So you can come home, of course: _Lirain shouted. Much as she loved him, and she could now identify what she felt as love, he was an idiot sometimes. He had probably convinced himself that he was better off staying there.

_:Home. My own family doesn't want me, what else can I have? I may as well stay here, I'll do less harm. I'm useless out in the world anyway. Who would care about me enough to have me back:_

_:Your teacher, for one. If nothing else, she's invested enough time teaching you to want your return.:_

_:There are other students.:_

Treet could hardly believe that the callous voice he heard within himself was truly his. It was as though the darker portion of his soul, all but quashed, had surged up in revolt and plunged him into such depths of despair that he couldn't even try to pull himself out.

_:What about me: _Lirain asked desperately. _:I care about you. I love you and I want you back more than anything.:_ She knew she couldn't reveal the truth, but she could come close, for a worthy cause.

This reply stopped Treet short. He wanted desperately to believe it. _:Really:_

_:Yes, really: _Lirain assured him, confident that she was beginning to get through to him.

_:No, you aren't real. You're just my imagination, telling me what I want to hear. The real you would never love someone like me, someone too stupid to realize that even their own family could never care for them.:_

Lirain could have screamed. _:I'm not your imagination, I'm Lirain, Mindspeaking you. I know you know about the Gift of Mindspeaking.:_

_:Enough to know that the real you doesn't have it: _Treet said suspiciously.

Lirain decided that it was about time to abandon all sense and drum some reality into Treet's head. No matter what Rith said, she knew him better. _:I don't need it. You and I are lifebonded. We're tied together, soul bound, so deeply that I knew you were in trouble all the way from Haven. I love you, the Collegium and Valdemar need you. Do you think you could get that into your head so that I can leave you long enough to do something about getting you out of there:_

Treet grinned in spite of himself. That certainly sounded like Lirain, but lifebonded? He had read about it in the tales he had been learning to enjoy reading. It would certainly explain why he had felt so peculiarly attached to Lirain when he was still holding the rest of the Collegium at arms length. Perhaps he was worth something to someone after all. Perhaps, just perhaps.

Lirain could feel Treet just on the verge of believing. He didn't seem to be at all upset by the notion of being lifebonded to her. All told, he had taken the news even better than she had, although perhaps that was because he didn't fully believe it. She supposed he would have issues with it later, but for now no price was too high to pay for his belief in her.

At this inopportune moment Treet's father, who didn't believe in doing anything quietly, crashed through the door of the cellar with rage in his face, causing Treet to cringe back into the potatoes, heedless of his injured shoulder.

"Because of your display of ungodliness yesterday, the father of your future bride has significantly reduced the dower he was providing. You couldn't even do that one thing well enough to be an asset to your family. I own you as surely as if you were a horse or draft animal, until you have your own family, and it is your responsibility to provide me with a worthwhile reason to keep you."

"I don't want you to keep me," Treet said unthinkingly. He couldn't seem to agree with anyone. He had told Lirain that he wanted to stay and not he was telling his father he didn't. He had managed to upset everyone.

"Do you suppose I care what you want? I'll teach you to be defiant." His father was on the verge of flying into a furious rage. He advanced on Treet, who cowered, covering his face. His father kicked him in the stomach, knocking almost all of the wind out of him. Treet lay rag doll limp.

Lirain couldn't see what was happening, but she could feel the fear which suddenly consumed Treet and their fragile link began to waver. _:Treet, you have to hang on, keep talking to me or I'll lose you.: _She said frantically.

_:Don't…care. Whoever you are, stay out of this. I don't care if you're Lirain or not or if you love me, you don't deserve my punishment.:_

_:And you do: _Lirain practically screamed, hoping to use volume to shove some sense into him.

All she heard from Treet was a feeling of assent.

He was fading in and out; Lirain could tell that someone was beating him. Anger rose within her, hot and furious. She would find them, find them herself and she would deal with them, who laid hands on a Healer Trainee, who so harmed her lifebonded. At the same time, she was nearly doubled over with misery and pain not her own and she could barely hold onto him.

_:Don't watch this, if you are you. I want you to remember me as better than this. You would be braver than me. You wouldn't be here.: _Treet formulated the thought, using all of the concentration he had learned to ignore his father, ignore his brothers who had come to join in the fun, ignore everything. He carefully shut down the mental link as well as he could, blockading his mind as he had before he had come to the Collegium.

Lirain was flung out of the link and she leaned forwards to the grass, heaving with the pain. No matter how she tried, she couldn't find any trace of Treet. His feelings continued to torment her but she couldn't mindspeak.

"Remember, horseshit!" She exclaimed once she could speak aloud again. "If I have to drag you home myself I'll get you out of this!"

She staggered towards the House of Healing and then to Rith's office, ignoring the strange looks she got from passersby.


	31. Help

Disclaimer: Am I really expected to churn out 40 different and somewhat amusing disclaimers? I swear, I really need to hire someone to do this for me.

Reviewers! You all are awesome! Keep them coming!

Fireblade: Lifebonds are one of the best things Mercedes Lackey came up with. They're sort of overdone, I guess, but I can't give mine up.

Wishing: Lirain can't mindspeak ordinarily. She doesn't have the Gift, but her Lifebond with Treet enables her to mindspeak with him to some degree, especially when one of them is in trouble. There is the tax exemption, but I don't think the Holderkin know about that. At least, these ones don't. I can't let Treet out of this that easily.

Wizard: Glad you like it. Next chapter coming up!

Oceanmate: The rest is coming. Hopefully all shall become clear.

Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I don't know what happened. The beginning of this chapter was fairly rocky, but I think I'm pretty pleased with the way the ending came out. On another note, I'm going away on July 30 for a week and a half, so there may not be another update for a while. Sorry guys.

Anyway, chapter 31 coming up! The plot thickens, suspense builds, and a solution appears to be in sight and then is lost…or is it? etc etc etc.

Chapter 31: Help

Lirain ran into Rith's office without knocking, unusual for her. Her face was pale and set and she was nearly doubled over with pain. Upon realizing that there was nothing physically wrong, Rith immediately threw a shield over Lirain. It did nothing for Lirain but Rith instantly felt better than she had since Lirain had walked into the room, having been infected with some of the same emotions that had battered her student.

"Treet's in trouble!" Lirain gasped.

Rith wasn't exactly surprised. "What sort of trouble?"

"His family wants him to get married!" This fact was the most distressing to her, apart from Treet's physical state. "They locked him in the basement or something and they beat him when he wouldn't agree to do what they wanted. He shut me out, too."

Although Rith hadn't exactly supported the idea of sending a Trainee off to the Holderkin alone, the idea that they would try to reform him when they hadn't really cared for him for his entire life was repugnant to her. It was horribly cruel of them to snatch everything out from under him just when he was gaining some sort of stability and to try to force him to become something he had never wanted to be in the first place. Rith could only imagine the damage this would do.

She was angry now. They meddled where they had no place and they upset not only Treet but Lirain as well, who had been almost a daughter to Rith. She forced herself to regain detachment.

"He shut you out?" She asked impassively.

"He thought he was just imagining me. He was so hopeless; he didn't even seem to care about what was happening to him anymore. He talked to me for a while, but then his father showed up. Treet said he didn't want me to know what was happening to him and he shut me out. You know how his shields get, and I'm not a strong Mindspeaker at all." Lirain sank into a chair, head cradled in her hands. With some effort, she managed to strengthen her own shields and block her tie to Treet.

Making the split second leaps of thought that sometimes came to her in a crisis, Rith remembered something she had noticed weeks before. "You come with me, we'll awaken the Dean and have whatever Herald is out there contacted and asked to ride rescue duty. After that, you will go and see the Herald Karissa. She's still bedridden, but she's chafing at the bit and if she gets wind of this before we get to her, she'll be out of that bed and on her Companion within a quarter Candlemark. I personally guarantee it."

"You want me to sit in her room by the side while the adults deal with it, you mean? He's my lifebonded -" Lirain was set to launch into a tirade, but Rith stopped her with a single lifted finger.

"I do not intend for you to sit by the side. I will bring you with me to see the Dean and after that there will be nothing else that can be done for Treet, other than to attempt to link with him again to keep him whole and sane. Karissa, on the other hand, will need comfort which you are uniquely suited to provide." Rith gave a sweeping glance that encompassed Lirain's ragged and breathless appearance. "You could do with some of the same, I imagine. You also do need to attempt to contact Treet again. He needs to resist, if passively, until someone can get to him. We can't really rescue someone who insists that they don't want to be rescued." Rith was aware that her explanation was slightly faulty, but there was nothing to ruin a good plan like letting people in on it. If Lirain could do this, it would earn her her Greens. If not, well, there would be other opportunities and Lirain would never be the wiser that she had missed the first one. Tests were better that way.

Lirain nodded a reluctant assent.

As she spoke, Rith had been throwing on a set of Greens. She handed Lirain a set of Trainee Greens that fit somewhat badly. Lirain was unsurprised. She had never known Rith to lack anything that might someday be important.

When they were both suitably attired, Rith sped from the room, Lirain ahead of her.

All dignity thrown to the winds, they hiked up their robes and ran to the Dean's sleeping chamber, banging on the door before they had even caught their breath.

The Dean opened the door looking rumpled. She yawned hugely. Her hair, ordinarily simply curly, was absolutely riotous and her eyes were still half closed.

"I know you too well to imagine that you would disturb me for something trivial. What has happened?" She asked, resigned to having to deal with a crisis.

Lirain opened her mouth to explain but Rith beat her to it. "As I appraised you of a while ago, my current Trainee Lirain and Trainee Tretin are lifebonded."

At this, Lirain shot Rith a look of betrayal. Did the entire Collegium know except for Treet?

Rith, paying no attention, continued. "By virtue of that bond, Lirain has some clue of what happens around Tretin, especially if he is upset. This Trainee, you recall, is the same one you sent off on his own to the Border against the better judgment of half the Collegium, including your own. To be brief, he has run into trouble – his father, I suspect, has decided to reform him, basically accomplished by locking him in the basement and physically abusing him until he 'comes around'."

The Dean's hand flew to her mouth. She did not doubt this story for a second, but one glance at Lirain would have convinced her if she hadn't believed. With an almost audible snap, she flew into action mode, sending Lirain to fetch the King's Own Herald, Jedin.

When the four of them were assembled, this time seated in the Dean's office, Lirain repeated everything she knew and Jedin's face grew graver as the story continued.

"We have allowed the Holderkin much freedom in our realm, but this we cannot tolerate." His eyes took on a faraway look, as though he was only partially in reality. "My Companion is contacting Deri, whose Herald, Arin, is currently on duty in that sector." He paused again. "They should be able to reach the Holderkin lands within a few days. He will find out where they have taken your Trainee and reclaim him. I have also given him royal authority to punish the miscreants according to Valdemaran law." Jedin almost-smiled. "The king will not begrudge me the exercise of his powers, I imagine."

Lirain spoke up. "I don't know that Treet would want them punished. I think he would just want them to leave him alone."

Jedin considered this for a moment. It was a thought that had occurred to him. "Perhaps you are right. We cannot allow such a thing to wholly unopposed, but I shall give Herald Arin discretion in the matter of what punishment exactly shall be inflicted."

With that, Jedin strode out of the room, leaving the Dean, Rith and Lirain all staring at one another. Shortly after that Rith hurried Lirain out of the room, gripping her by the shoulder. Rith guided Lirain into a corner of the hallway and looked at her concernedly. "I would like you to be with Karissa when she awakens. Will you be alright?"

Lirain's gaze was steady although she trembled a little. "As long as I know they're going to get him out of there."

"As soon as may be," Rith assured her. "Try to contact him again. Keep him as stable as you can. Tell him whatever you need to. If you need me, you know where to find me."

After Rith had swept away, Lirain leant her head against the cool stone. She knew, intellectually, that they would get him out, that eventually he would be alright again, but it was one thing to know and another thing to put Treet out of her mind when he was alone and afraid right now. If she opened up her tight blockage of their bond just a little, she could feel echoes of pain and panic.

She walked to Karissa's room in a trancelike state and pushed open the door. When she saw Karissa already sitting up, pale as a spirit, Lirain almost jumped high enough to hit the top of the door.

"What's happened?" She asked.

Lirain took a deep breath and closed the door, seating herself in a chair by Karissa's bedside as she prepared to tell her story for the third time that morning. "It's Treet. I don't know how to tell you this in a better way, so I suppose I'll just spit it out."

Karissa snorted weakly. "I don't require cosseting, child." The retort lacked her usual sting.

"Yes, well, in any event. Treet. He's in trouble. His family." Lirain stopped for a moment, trying to regain the composure she had been valiantly holding onto all morning. "They want him to get married and so they basically locked him up and carried him off."

If Karissa had had the strength, she would indeed have vaulted out of the bed. "It's those mucking Holderkin! The King should…should…DO something about them! And I suppose they're still debating the political ramifications of this? Leaving Treet to suffer the gods only know what? And on my circuit as well!" She closed her eyes briefly in pain. "I could be there for him now, if I hadn't gone and gotten sick."

She lapsed into silence. She had known that something was wrong. Like Lirain, she had struggled with uneasiness all day and had finally settled down to await the blow of the axe. Still, the thought of Treet, frightened, hurt, made her feel as though a Companion had kicked her in the chest. Lirain's voice broke into the silence, hard edged.

"They are sending the Herald on that circuit to get him. The only problem is that even I cannot tell what state he will be in when we get him back." Lirain forced herself to speak as though Treet were just another patient. "If he consents to this marriage, he is bound to it. If he succumbs to true despair, although a trained Mindhealer can bring him back he will never be quite the same again. If he strikes out with his mind, the consequences will be bad for all involved. In short, he needs me to be with him in mind if not body and I cannot reach him. He's blocking me and I can't help him unless I can get through to him. In that environment it won't take much for him to break and for one thing I don't know what that will do to me, although that's not exactly the greatest of my worries at the moment!"

Karissa looked at Lirain with stunned and concerned eyes. "Have you tried recently?"

Lirain choked back the emotions that threatened to flood from her. "I'm going to try now." She was proud that her voice registered only a slight tremor. Concentrating harder than she knew she could, she bottled up all of her pain and anger and frustration and used them to fuel her mental push. She reached the end of her bond to Treet and stopped short. There was a brush, the briefest, most tantalizing brush, with Treet's mind before she was shoved away. She tried to fight her way back, feeling herself cross the personal threshold that she knew meant she would be courting a reaction headache, but it was entirely in vain. She may as well have been lifebonded to a stone for all the reaction she got.

She raised weary eyes to Karissa's anxious face. "I can't. I'm just not a strong enough Mindspeaker. The only way to reach him without him trying to reach me as well would be either for us to complete our bond, which is impossible at this distance, or for a strong Mindspeaker with a personal connection to Treet to link with me and I just don't know anyone strong enough."

Lirain hung her head in despair. She would have continued trying until she passed out from reaction headache if she had thought it would do any good, but she knew it wouldn't help. Nevertheless, she was ready to try again when she spotted a sudden glimmer of something unidentifiable in Karissa's eye.

Karissa recalled, through a sleep-fogged memory, a conversation that had been held over her semi-conscious body only a few weeks previous.

_The voice had drifted into her ear, barely registering at the time. "I'd hazard my Greens that she should be a very strong Mindspeaker, and would be if she wasn't pouring every scrap of psychic energy elsewhere."_

And who had a stronger connection to Treet than she, apart from Lirain? Karissa cursed her past. If only. If only she were whole in heart and mind, she would be able to save the Trainee who meant so much to her, who had helped her complete her bond with Veria.

Karissa didn't even realize she was speaking aloud. "If only I were whole. If I were whole, I would be strong enough."

Lirain looked at Karissa sharply, first with her eyes then with the inner sight bestowed by her Gift of Mindhealing. She was surprised at what she found. Karissa was absolutely right. Some profound, abiding hurt had forced her to go deep within herself, channeling all of her Gift of Mindspeaking, which was indeed considerably powerful, into blocking out everything and everyone, rather than communicating. If those shields came down for good, Karissa's returned Gift and ties to Treet, combined with Lirain's Lifebond, would be enough.

Although Lirain wanted to shout with exultation, she suppressed it, aware that she was a long road away from success. This subject would have to be broached with extreme care, for Karissa would have to be Mindhealed and would have to consent to a great deal of intimacy with a Mindhealer, both things she had fought stridently in the past. Lirain would just have to trust that Karissa's need to help Treet would be enough.

"You would be strong enough to reach him?" Lirain asked.

Karissa hadn't realized that she had spoken aloud. "What? Well, according to the Healers. They say I am blocking my Gift." Incongruously, she blushed. "They say I would be a strong Mindspeaker." She looked sharply at Lirain. "But only if I were whole." She gave a wry laugh. "And I'm nothing near. So, as you see, all comes to naught."

Lirain firmly quashed the impulse to reach out, to calm and soothe. "It doesn't have to be that way. I could help you. Rith could help you, if you wanted someone more experienced."

Karissa laughed in a way that was reminiscent of a very large animal caught in the path of an even larger wagon. With metal-reinforced, spiked wheels. "You can't trap me like that. I won't. I refuse. You can't make me."

Lirain looked at Karissa sadly, unwilling to alienate Karissa by pushing too hard right after she had broached the idea. "No, I can't make you. I will do nothing without your consent. You have my word."

Lirain knew that she was supposed to stay with Karissa, but the woman would hardly do anything stupid now. The danger of that was past. Lirain left. She would plunge herself into her work. Anything to pretend to forget, for a few hours. Come night, she would try to persuade Karissa again. Lirain felt no resentment, but she couldn't bear to look upon what might be Treet's last hope for sanity at that moment.

As Lirain closed the door behind her, Karissa sank back into her bed, feeling hot and sick with shame. "I'm sorry. I'm just so afraid." She said, almost too quietly to be heard, as though she could make amends to the still air.


	32. Decisions

Disclaimer: As seen by the fact that every time I try to type the word 'tree', I end up writing 'Treet' by mistake, my story definitely owns me. Unfortunately, I don't own Valdemar.

Okay, so I had the most amazing luck the other day. I walked past this yard sale after it had ended and there were BOXES of fantasy books and tons of complete Mercedes Lackey trilogies free for the taking. I brought my backpack and piled in everything I could fit, of course. I had to share that, since nobody I know seems to appreciate it.

Not too many reviews on the last chapter, but a huge thank you goes out to everyone who did review, it warms my little heart unimaginably.

Raynsong: Yup, Karissa's working on it. At least for once she recognizes her own limitations. I wish I could just get Veria's hooves in there and set her straight, but as Misty rightly said, that wouldn't really be an effective solution.

Fireblade: I stand in awe of your disclaiming skills. Karissa, of course, will be straightened out, and will come to realize the benefits of a bit of judicious mind shrinking and then I will inflict much anguish and much Healing, in that order.

Ali: Glad you're enjoying – I was rather proud of my latest plot gimmick myself. I have been thinking about writing a Karissa story, but there will be a lot of flashbacks and things in this story, so I cant really see what there is to tell about her in terms of her past. Maybe a few more one shots if I can think of a plot.

Anyway, Karissa has made a somewhat bad decision, which, according to Orson Scott Card's Characters and Viewpoints, has lost her sympathy with the reader. Personally, knowing that she's going to see the right path soon, I would be more sympathetic, not less, as a reader, but who knows?

Since the last chapter, little has changed. And so, at this sad juncture, we rejoin our characters with an update on the Treet situation and then move to the current nexus of the problem – Karissa. Enjoy!

Chapter 32: Decisions

Treet wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed. Objectively, he didn't think it had been long. A day, maybe. It felt like a whole lifetime. The food was the same as it had been forever. Simple, harsh fare. What felt like streams of people passed by to sneer at him, although Treet knew that it was simply his brothers aiming a taunt or a kick to amuse themselves between chores. He truly pitied their wives, when he had time to spare for anyone other than himself. Treet occasionally saw his mother, but she never spoke, simply gazed at him with wide sorrowful eyes and wrung her hands under her apron.

Periodically, his father came to 'offer' him the option of marriage. He knew that soon his father would simply force him to the altar, but that Nin still hoped to avoid the public humiliation his wayward son would provide in plenty if dragged all the way there.

Treet wasn't sure why he continued to refuse. A continual low key buzzing of other peoples' pain and anger and desperation and fear and all sorts of other things battered at him constantly, augmenting his own and giving him a killing headache to boot. It would be simpler to just give in, but he couldn't quite force himself to do it. There was something. Something he should be resisting for.

Karissa simply lay in bed, looking more pale and white than she had in days. Her mind ran in circles, the same circles over and over again. She held the key to the problem. All she had to do was turn the key in the lock. All she had to do was say yes. Just say yes. But what if she did? What if the lump of pain and misery that she had coiled around all her life simply vanished? What would she do? Would she still be the same person, or would she become someone else entirely? Surely nothing was worth that. Nothing except maybe Treet. She had no doubt that if she were being held captive he would do whatever it took to help her. Shouldn't she do the same for him? She wanted to help, but what could she do? She held the key. All she had to do was turn it in the lock.

_:Veria, what do I do: _She asked, for the thousandth time that day. The reply never changed.

_:You know what you have to do.:_

Veria was determined not to soften. Her Chosen was a damn fine Herald and a damn fine person besides. Veria simply had to trust that she would do the right thing. Sometimes being an omniscient being really wasn't all it was chalked up to be.

'Why, if I were still human, I would be of _more_ help in this situation,' Veria thought. She had been well known in her last life to be possessed of a distinct streak of independence. At least, so other Heralds and those not on the receiving end named it. The others tended to have more abusive descriptions. In this life, much to her disgust, she had emerged sweet tempered. Well. Sometimes.

_:It's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't.: _Karissa said plaintively, continuing the argument to distract herself from her own thoughts as much as anything else.

_:You can do anything you want to do, Chosen, if you just make up your mind to it.: _ Veria coaxed.

_:I'm not strong enough.: _Karissa insisted.

_:I've seen you face down bandits twice your size, Kari. You are anything but weak. The shadow lover courts you as he does all Heralds and that you do not mind.:_

_:For one thing, I mind it very much indeed when Healers mess with my body. And for another thing, that's entirely different from this. This is the only kind of death I fear, you see. Death of the body, well, I'm not exactly eager for that to happen, but whenever it happens I die as myself and I go on to whatever lies ahead. What we're talking about is death of soul, of spirit, of self.: _Karissa said, beginning to rant.

_:Don't you think you're being a little overly dramatic? Nobody is talking about changing your whole personality.:_

_:They are, though, although they don't mean to. Think about it. What has my whole life been since, well, forever? You and the lump of misery I like to call my past. And the latter, I think, may have shaped me more. Take it away and what do you have left of Herald Karissa:_

_:Everything: _Veria replied in an impassioned tone. _:Your memories, your past, those will be there, and your personality will not be changed in itself. You will simply gain control over it. What you have now is not free will, beloved. A force you can neither understand nor control drives you. If you set that aside, you will be more yourself than ever.:_

_:I'm afraid, though.:_

_:I know you are. And you are not wrong to be. Everyone fears something. But is it not worth facing what you fear, to save one who means much to you? I promise you that there is nothing in this that will harm you. You may not enjoy it, it may be filled with anxiety and you may have to revisit things you would rather leave buried, but there is no harm in this for you and much benefit to Treet.: _Veria said, sensing and pressing her advantage. Truth be told, the situation as a whole had rolled up almost everything that Karissa feared and hated, which would be a hard potion for her to swallow. Healers, Mindhealers, peril facing someone she cared for, and the need to mindlink, which was intrinsically terrifying to her.

Karissa paused, radiating uncertainty and confusion. _:Veria, if I don't do this, will you repudiate me:_

_:Never, Chosen. I swore to stand by you when we bonded and I will not do anything but. If you decide that you cannot do this, I will offer you no reproach - now or ever - in thought, word, action or Mindspeech. But if you find the strength to do this, I will be prouder of you than I think any Companion has ever been of their Herald.:_ With the mental equivalent of a quick caress, Veria left Karissa to her thoughts, correctly judging the conversation to be over.

Karissa's strongest desire at that point was to curl up in a ball at the end of the bed and moan to herself. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly an option. She sternly told herself so.

She would talk to Lirain when Lirain returned, Karissa told herself. She would. This wasn't a commitment, mind. She wasn't saying she was going to do anything. She was just going to talk.

Lirain wanted two things at that moment, both equally impossible. For one thing, she wanted Treet. For another, she wanted to dose herself with enough sleeping potion for a long and peaceful rest minus nightmares and insomnia. Only her promise to check on Karissa kept her on her feet at this point.

She had spent the day so fully wrapped up in her work and her patients that time had seemed to stop passing. As far as she knew, she had awoken from a restless doze when the sky was still an indeterminate shade of dawn. She had then moved through the backed up stack of patients requiring urgent but not immediate assistance, perfectly within her abilities and a considerable drain on Rith's time and energy. She thought she hadn't stopped for lunch, but she couldn't be exactly sure. It was possible that someone had shoved something in her hand while mouthing the expressions of care and concern she had about had her fill of.

Lirain wasn't ready to admit, even to herself, how much it had cost her to keep her emotions out of her Healings. She had carefully, almost lovingly, shunted them out of the picture. She would pay later, she knew, but she accepted that eventuality.

Despite her resolve, she felt trepidation as she pushed open Karissa's door for the second time in as many days. She refused to consider how very much rested on her success, especially given her lack of a plan.

It was not in her to see Karissa as the wrongdoer. Her Gift damned her to seeing the shades of gray, the quintuple sides that most stories had. Yet as her exhaustion and stress whittled away at her shielding and her Lifebond shrilled its agonizing thrum louder and louder she wanted badly to throw something. She pushed open Karissa's door and staggered into a seat.

Karissa's face reflected deadly uncertainty. She was as good as unGifted in her present state, but Lirain's face was enough to convince anyone that something was deadly wrong. Lirain was hit by such a blast of pain that Karissa's uncommonly soft words escaped her, only the shadow of their meaning drifted into her mind - a sincere wish to help combined with terrible doubt and fear not simply bordering on obsession but reaching within it.

"Listen to me," Lirain said. "I don't know what I can say to you to convince you that Treet needs your help and needs it desperately. There is nobody else who can help him – you are literally the only one. He's being hurt and abused and every second we delay increases the risk of irreparable damage. All I ask is that you work with me to help me find a solution, allow me to try to Heal the hurts you have suffered and restore your Gift to you."

Karissa remained silent. She wanted to help, oh how she wanted to. She even almost wanted to be free of the chains of the past that hung upon her.

"I swear to you upon my Gift that this is necessary. I further swear that I will not take away any of your memories nor alter the person that you have become. I cannot, of course, promise not to hurt you, but I promise you that harm will outweigh good and there will be no lasting pain from this. All I ask is that for Treet's sake you try this with me."

"And if it's too hard?"

"If you say the word, I will stop doing whatever I'm doing, instantly and without question and I will not bring up the subject again until you do."

Lirain was almost holding her breath. She thought she might have found the hook that would give Karissa the ability to help. Allow her to control the terms and the battle was half won.

Karissa was poised on the brink, caught in an agony of indecision. She did as she always did in such situations, reached for Veria, her anchor since the instant of her Choosing. Veria instantly returned a burst of love and support.

"Yes." Karissa almost whispered, before she could allow her fear to get the better of her.

Lirain jumped into action almost instantly. "Do you want Rith to do this, being as she's more experienced?"

"No, you. Treet loves you, even if he doesn't know it yet. That's more than recommendation enough."

"Alright," Lirain readily agreed, having expected something like this. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Now. Before I lose my nerve."

One look at Karissa told Lirain that this was a real possibility, but Lirain was tired from a full day of work. "As a Healer, I advise you that us trying to do anything complicated on the level of rest I suspect we've both had is extremely unwise. Here's an idea. I'll dose us both with enough sleeping potion to knock us out for an equivalent amount of time. You won't have any more time to think about anything and you won't dream, but I can tell you for certain that you'll be able to handle stress much better after this."

Karissa reluctantly agreed to the sense of this idea and Lirain fetched the sleeping potions, pouring them each a mug. Karissa saluted Lirain ironically with hers, grimacing at the bitter state. As she fell into slumber, her face smoothed and she seemed almost innocent.

Lirain arranged herself in a semi-comfortable position in the available chair and also drank deeply. The familiar sensation of heavy lidded eyes crept over her as her Lifebond receded to a bearable level.

They both took sleep while they could, preparing for the difficult trials ahead the next morning.


	33. Finally

Disclaimer: I'm not profiting from my profligate use of Mercedes Lackey's work except in terms of personal enjoyment and writing practice. What I have created myself to supplement her work is all I lay claim to.

213 reviews to date – I never thought my story would end up this long or this well read. I'm back from holidays and ready to continue the saga through the end, so read, enjoy and hopefully review!

Fireblade: Heh, cliffhangers pwn. Hopefully there'll be lots of chapters for you to read when you get back, though.

Kathleen: I thought it would be Veria as well, actually, right up until I got there. Just goes to show you – I shouldn't try to outthink myself. Glad you're enjoying my twisty plot.

Oceanmate: Treet'll manage. I'm more concerned about my ability to keep him in 'durance vile' indefinitely without him asserting himself somehow, but he should be safe and rescued as soon as I can manage it.

Wizard: Thanks! I'll try not to keep you waiting too much longer.

Ali: Glad you liked Veria in this one. She's put up with a lot over the years, I should think, but Karissa has been backed into a corner at last.

Eyes: Glad you're enjoying my story. Sorry about the long time between updates.

Anyhow, I shall go on to torment Karissa some more, because we couldn't make this easy for her after all that fuss, now could we? -evil grin- It would be a positive letdown if I didn't inflict at least a little anguish.

I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the time it took to write it. Hopefully its ok; I worked really hard on it.

Chapter 33: Finally

Lirain awoke feeling better. Not rested, exactly, but then, she hadn't had a proper rest since before Treet's departure. On the other hand, her depleted energy had been restored to a level at which she could work with a degree of finesse. This was all to the good; she would need every advantage she could get.

She used the first few moments after waking to collect herself and her thoughts. Karissa was trying extremely hard to appear still asleep and Lirain saw no reason not to snatch a few moments to prepare for the difficulties ahead. Difficulties! That was rather understating the affair, Lirain thought.

This particular case would be one of the most difficult she had ever worked. For one thing, she was used to dealing with freshly inflicted mental wounds. In that way, Mindhealing was rather akin to mending a broken bone. Catch it right after the fact and it could be splinted and set with relative ease. Allow it to grow together twisted and warped and the whole limb would have to be shattered all over again to Heal it straight. Karissa had grown to adulthood emotionally crippled, in a sense. By now, Lirain suspected, what may have started as a simple enough reaction to trauma had spread out and now permeated everything Karissa said, thought and did.

The other problem, of course, was Karissa's extreme resistance to having anyone else in her mind, much less a Healer. Karissa's honest will to accomplish this thing would probably be enough to overcome the initial resistance, but any small setback would send her reeling back inside her shields and the whole thing would have to be begun again.

It was very likely that this would happen at least once. Mindhealing was not as simple as some thought. It was, in some ways, an invasion of selfhood, one that most people instinctively fought. A Mindhealer, equipped with Empathy and the unique Mindhealing Gift, could cushion these effects and usually only the very resistant or very badly damaged patients had a truly difficult time. Karissa was both of these.

Lirain sighed. It was just like a Herald to get into a fix like this. Despite, or possibly because of the Companion, they seemed to land in an unconscionable amount of trouble. Lirain wondered why Karissa's Companion hadn't just stuck her hooves in, or at least seen to it that someone else meddled before the situation became critical.

_:I have not the Gift, young Healer.: _The voice sounded artificially mystical but was overlaid with a genuine tinge of regret. _:I would that I could help my Chosen, but we Companions are limited even as you. I have tried since I realized the severity of her condition to urge her to seek help but she was…: _Lirain detected the faintest suspicion of a snort. _:…rather adamant, I'm afraid.:_

Lirain blinked. A Companion, presumably Karissa's, was speaking to her. There must be a good reason for this; by all accounts it simply did not happen except under the most severe of circumstances. Lirain was no Mindspeaker, so she didn't reply, simply waited.

:You are correct, child, in imagining that I have a reason for speaking to you, but it is hardly as dire as all the stories insist it should be. I only wish to tell you that I will be here and I will help you as I can in keeping Kari calm.: There was a pregnant pause with an air of distraction to it. :Look to your patient, Healer. She awakens. And I use awakens in the loosest possible fashion.:

With that the sense of presence withdrew from Lirain's mind, leaving her alone.

Lirain stretched and sat up, smoothing down her Greens and bringing a mask of serene authority over her features.

Karissa opened first one eye and then the other. "I suppose there's no point in lying here any longer. I can't feign sleep well enough to fool an Empath, especially not when I'm a bundle of nerves." Karissa sat up and faced Lirain squarely in a way that was almost challenging. When she spoke again, however, her voice was almost pleading.

"Do you think I could put on my Whites today? I'm deathly sick of nightgowns."

It could have been procrastination, but it wasn't. Any Empath with even a modicum of training would have known at a glance that it was the grasp of a fragile woman for the only security she knew. Lirain agreed readily to the implicit request for help, although her help was barely needed at this point in Karissa's recovery.

When Karissa was attired in a fairly clean set of working Whites, she resumed her seat on the bed with Lirain sitting in a chair to the side. The silence that followed was, for the most part, more expectant than uncomfortable. That, at least, Lirain could offer by the simple expedient of body language and posture. She waited patiently for Karissa to speak.

"You know, in my years as a Herald I've occasionally wanted to get myself slightly intoxicated – and usually managed it - but this is the first time I've had this great a desire to go off and get sodden drunk. Very unHeraldic of me, I know." Her tone was flippant, but her face was anything but.

Lirain smiled gently. "And I would that I could let you. Not that I, as a Healer, can approve of finding solutions in the bottom of a bottle, but I think the situation might have warranted it if I didn't need your conscious and sober cooperation for what I'll be doing." Now that was an opening if Lirain had ever seen one. She was almost pleased with herself. Now that Karissa was awake, however, she had no room for fleeting pleasure. Her entire concentration was focused on doing what she had been trained for. Every minute detail of her own body language and speech was carefully monitored, half by the instinct that made her a Mindhealer and half by her own training. At the moment, she kept any possible projections carefully locked down though her mental fingers itched to calm and soothe.

"What _are_ you going to be doing?" Karissa asked, neatly taking the bait.

Lirain pretended to consider for a second, although she had already mapped out most of her explanation. "It would be possible for me to simply strip you of whatever memories are causing you grief, but I will certainly not be doing that. For one thing, it would leave you changed in a way you most likely would not appreciate. Only in the direst of circumstances do we take away memories. I'm actually going to talk to you a lot, at least to begin with. Just talking, nothing more. After that, I'll use my Gift to very gently separate your past from your present. I can teach your mind what you should already consciously know – there is nothing to fear from reaching out to others, there is nothing to fear in love or trust and there is nothing to fear from Healers simply because of what they are and the Gift they bear."

Karissa nodded tensely. "Does it, ah, hurt?" She asked, flushing at having to ask such a childish question.

Lirain replied gravely. "No, it doesn't hurt per se, but you may find it uncomfortable. Any kind of Healing creates a bond between Healer and patient and generally speaking the strength and depth of the bond depends on the strength of the Healer and the profundity of the injury. Mindhealing creates a bond almost equivalent to Healing a life threatening injury because it is so very concerned with personality and selfhood. Added to that, my Gift of Mindhealing is very strong. I will be monitoring the backflow very carefully so that you wont have to deal with leakage from my personality but unless I miss my guess any level of intimacy will be uncomfortable for you at this point."

"And that's supposed to make me feel _better_?" Karissa nearly shrieked. No matter how she tried to hold on to her emotions, she felt as though she was trapped on a runaway horse with the speed of a Companion and nothing near as smooth a gait. She felt as though the room was closing in on her and the green hue of the walls combined with the medicinal smell of the House of Healing made her want to retch.

"I am not telling you this to frighten you, I am telling you this to help you. So that we can deal with it together. I will help you, your Companion will help you, and neither of us will allow harm to befall you. Whatever you think, you are safe, I promise you."

Lirain started to project a feeling of soothing calm – _her_ stomach was roiling with Karissa's turmoil since Lirain had taken down much of her own shielding in preparation.

Karissa felt herself relax. Her fist, which she had clenched around the bedcovers, released its death grip and her tense muscles began to unknot. Suddenly she jerked up off of the bed, fighting lassitude and backed away into the opposite corner of the room, as far away from Lirain as she could get. "Stop it! Stop that right now!"

"Stop what?" Lirain asked even as realization dawned on her. So much for instinctive Mindhealing!

Karissa's face twisted. "Stop _soothing_ me! If I do this I do it on my own terms and by my own will!"

Lirain made a conscious effort and stopped projecting, felt Karissa's anxiety come back as she noted Karissa's body stiffen and relax at one and the same time. "I'm sorry," Lirain said sincerely. "I should have known, but its hard to help."

Karissa considered this and her expression smoothed to its ordinary pinch-faced anxiety. "I suppose I understand. Healers have to Heal, so I suppose Empaths have to soothe." She spat out the last word, almost like a curse. She didn't want to need help, especially help that put her beyond controlling the situation she had found herself in.

Lirain knew she had to get a handle on Karissa's anxiety somehow, with or without the use of her Empathy. "I won't use my Gift to damp down your fear, but I have to do something or we won't get anywhere. What can I do to make this easier for you?"

Karissa looked almost hopeful for a second. "Get me out of this room! Just being in here makes my nerves thrum, makes me feel like the walls are closing in on me."

Lirain thought for a second. A tall order, but not such a bad idea. "I could borrow Rith's office. It's more comfortable than here and its not even green!"

Karissa shook her head. "Won't help. It's this blasted House of Healing, begging your pardon. Havens, just being in here has been driving me mad and combined with this stress," she gestured helplessly towards Lirain, "I won't know what to do!"

:Bring her outside, she's strong enough for that if you take it slowly. Bring her to the Grove, she will feel more comfortable closer to me.:

For the second time that day, Veria's Mindvoice echoed in Lirain's ears and Karissa showed no signs of hearing it, yet another minor wonder, to Lirain's mind.

"How about if we take a little walk to Companion's field? Perhaps the remains of the Grove temple would prove both empty and adequate for our needs."

"Yes," Karissa sighed in relief. "Outside. And Veria will be out there too." It had been a long time since Karissa had actually seen her Companion, especially for someone who was used to friendly acquaintance with the back of said Companion for most of the day. They had been in constant Mindtouch, of course, but there was nothing quite like actual physical proximity.

Unthinkingly, Lirain extended her mental senses to see how strong Karissa was. The resultant rebuff was a little like running into a wall and a little bit like walking up a flight of stairs and putting your foot up for the next step only to find that there's nothing there. In reality, it was a combination of the two. Lirain was awed. Hell of a shield. There was no violence in the rebuff it gave; just a cold awareness that refused to let anything past.

When Lirain looked up, Karissa's eyes were already on her. "I can walk," she stated flatly. Lirain didn't argue.

Despite a couple of odd looks from passing Healers, quickly averted at Karissa's monstrous scowl, Lirain and Karissa somehow made it outside. Karissa turned her face up to the pale winter sun and sighed with relief. By the time they reached the remains of the Grove temple, however, she was breathing heavily and her legs threatened to give way under her. She barely noticed the state of her body, however; Veria had beaten them to the temple.

With a glad cry, Karissa buried her face in Veria's soft mane, murmuring mental endearments she was too ashamed to mouth. Veria simply nuzzled her Chosen and cast Lirain, who has taken herself out of the way, a rather pointed look.

Lirain sternly told herself to resist the temptation of trying to reach Treet again. There was no point in squandering any of her carefully amassed energy on what she knew would be a fruitless effort; he was still blocking her out. Instead, she simply lay on her back in the grass, trying as best as she could to enjoy the unbroken peace of the surroundings while still keeping a careful watch on her patient.

After a quarter Candlemark or so of reunion, which Lirain was beginning to think might have been somewhat dragged out, Veria pointedly pushed Karissa into an upright position.

:You aren't that glad to see me, Chosen.:

_:Well, I am glad to see you…: _Karissa replied sheepishly.

Veria simply snorted. Karissa sighed in what might have been a put upon way if it hadn't been interrupted in the middle by a shudder hard enough to rattle her teeth. Veria's care and concern flooded Karissa and she felt able to feign some semblance of relaxation, leaning back against her Companion again.

"It's alright," Lirain said. She said it in such a way that Karissa almost wanted to believe her. "Why don't we start off easy?" She corrected herself after a raking glance that would have done the Collegium Weaponsmaster proud.

'She can see into my soul,' Karissa thought superstitiously. Exactly what she hated about Healers, that damnable clairvoyance to them.

"Easier, anyway." Lirain continued. "Tell me about being a Herald, about riding circuit. I've never been more than a few candlemarks ride out of Haven."

"I ride the border circuits." Karissa began hesitantly. "Few female Heralds do, authority issues and all, but I've never liked large cities. They give me headaches, make me feel like the world is pressing in on me. Now that I think about it, it may well be part of this supposed Gift of mine. The best times are out in the woods, all alone except for Veria. The peace, quiet, serenity, there's nothing like it. I guess you could say I'm happy with it. Except for the terrors and the nightmares, that is. Treet fixed them for a while. I think it was half by accident, though. Said I woke him up. I'm not surprised, I only wish I could manage to wake myself up. It's funny how close I came to never meeting him. I happened to by riding by a House of Healing and I stopped to check that all was well, as is my duty, and they sent me off on a wild quest. Well, not so wild but quite a quest."

Karissa was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Lirain, at least about commonplace matters. It was what she had always imagined sharing experiences with another Herald would be like. She sighed inwardly. Yet another regret to add to her trove. She had few friends among the Heralds and none so close she missed them when she left.

Karissa rattled on for a while about various things that had happened on her circuits and Lirain listened attentively, nodding occasionally. It was actually quite interesting. Though her parents were Heralds, they preferred to spend their off duty time forgetting about their work, not relating anecdotes. After a while, however, even Karissa seemed to have run out of stories to tell.

"Why don't you tell me about being Chosen?" Lirain suggested. Her few Heraldic patients had shown her that the one sure way to make a Herald more comfortable was to ask them to talk about their Companions. To her surprise, Karissa's face closed up. Obviously, something had happened. Lirain hadn't planned on hearing about the unspecified trauma this soon, but she had started the subject, so she put an attentive look on her face and prepared to brave the storm.

Karissa's gaze seemed to turn inwards. She had relived these and related moments many, many times. "It's sunny. Far too sunny, actually, especially since I'm wearing black. I'm standing on a hill. Facing away from the people, all the people, because there are too many and I fancy their thoughts are pressing on me and I cant bear it. My parents are wealthy enough to afford black mourning dresses for my mother and I, but I'd much rather be wearing pants. I don't want to be here, but I can't think where I want to be either. Then I hear gasps, the mood changes, becomes lighter, which only makes me more angry. Suddenly, I feel something on my shoulder. It must be yet another sympathetic hand. How sick I am of those! I swivel, meaning to say something moody and rude, my parents will take me to task later, but it will be worth it. I turn and see a white horse. I know what she is, she's a Companion. She probably meant to come for _her_, but _she _isn't here. The Companion bows her head, as though she can hear me, then shakes it emphatically. Then she speaks to me."

For the briefest instant, even Karissa's closed-in face glows with remembered joy.

"_:You, Karissa, I Choose you. We are for each other, to stand together for all time.:"_

"I felt like I was sinking, drowning in blue, but it felt so wonderful, so right. And I forgot everything, forgot for the first time in days about _her_." Karissa sighed. "But I didn't forget for long, I couldn't. And so I never risked it again. I'm sure there would have been plenty other Heralds willing to befriend one of their own but I just couldn't do it. After a while they left me alone."

Lirain leant forward and took Karissa's cold hands in her own, reminded poignantly of that first day when she had done the same for Treet. This was the first hurdle; the first gesture of trust. Lirain looked earnestly into Karissa's frightened eyes and aimed for the second hurdle. "Tell me. All of it, from the beginning."

Karissa had relived it countless times in dreams, had told it once to Treet, an abbreviated version, but she had never allowed herself to relive the entire thing, never allowed herself to really grieve, having been thrust into the life of the Collegium so soon. She had honestly thought, along with Veria, that it was gone, that Treet had Healed whatever was wrong with her, but after a brief respite it had only gotten worse, not better. He had broken down the crumbling walls between her and her past but had been unable to fix what he had found, untrained as he was. He had bought her sanity, the completion of her bond with Veria, but nothing more. And now she would have to go back through all of it, the parts she had glossed and skimmed over would be unearthed.

Karissa stared down at her hands, fighting the urge to jerk them back. "They said we were like to be twins, Sari and I. We were born only a year apart and though we had different parents we were both blonde, fair-skinned, blue eyed. Though we looked alike we were really anything but. I was always the hoyden, or so my parents said. I think they were only half teasing. Sari was dainty and elegant and sure to find a husband with ease, though neither of us thought of it much. I don't know how my parents would have found someone willing to marry me. Our parents came to Valdemar together, out of somewhere far away. They never spoke of it much. They became guildsmen of Valdemar and were quite well off by the time I was born. We all lived in the same house because it was so huge. Servants, back yard, the whole deal, and Sari and I were let free in it." That was the easy part, comparatively. The far past. In happier, simpler days.

Lirain frowned, noticing that Karissa was falling into an almost-trance. She shot a sharp glance at Karissa's Companion, who only winked slowly. Lirain shrugged. Anything that would help was welcome.

"I wake up and it's a beautiful summer morning. Warm already, blue skies. The butterflies are out. A perfect day to go outside and play at Heralds, a favorite game of ours. I think Sari might well be Chosen someday, but I don't tell her this. She would look like something out of a tale mounted on a Companion. She hasn't wanted to go outside lately. She's been tired, a nagging cough, a slight fever. My parents and hers are worried. I hear them talking late at night because its been weeks and she hadn't healed. They speak of taking her to the House of Healing, on the Palace grounds. I would like to see the Palace, but only if Sari is well enough to go exploring with me. I run out of my room in my nightshirt, thump down the hallway, run into Sari's room shouting. And she," Karissa swallowed convulsively. "She won't wake. I shake her, tell her she's lazy. She opens her eyes and I see that she's pale and damp with sweat. Her mouth opens and closes as though she wants to speak, but she can't. I scream. Our parents come at a run and I can't move, can't speak. My mother picks up Sari in her arms even though she's nine. I am ten, but my extra year never gave me any sort of advantage. Sari's father grabs her from my mother and starts to run, tells us he's taking her to the Healers. My father grabs him by the shoulder, fingers digging deep and tells him not to be a fool. I've never seen him this afraid, never seen any of them like this. I feel invisible as though a thousand things are happening above my head. My father hitches up the horses and they load Sari into the wagon. I sneak in the back and nobody sees me. Sari lies in the bottom of the wagon and I hold her cold hand. I know that she will be better soon but I am still afraid. We get to the House of Healing and Sari is carried inside. I am forced to drop her hand but I still follow. A Healer takes her away and I want to follow, but another Healer holds me back. She is bird-thin and not expecting me to fight, I guess. I break away and run in the direction the Healers took. I hear my parents' voices and I follow them. The Healer with them looks sorrowful. '…too advanced…can't help…nothing we can do…entered the final stage…a few days if luck is with us.' I don't know what any of this means, but then my parents see me, look over, and their faces are so strange that I know there's something badly wrong. Tears glitter in their eyes and on their faces and I don't know what it means but I know it isn't good. All I see is green, green everywhere. The walls are green, the bedclothes are green, the Healer is clad in green. All that green starts to spin around me and I feel sick. The world tunnels into green and I'm awash in it." Karissa remembered that feeling of disorientation very well indeed; she almost always dreamed of it.

Lirain sensed that there was more of this story to come, though what Karissa had described already was suitably traumatic for a child to witness. There had been something that had swept Haven years back, Lirain had read about it. It started off slowly then abruptly changed into something so serious that nothing short of a Healer burning herself out could even stem the flow.

Karissa took a deep breath, surprised to find that she was shaking all over. Her hands rattled within Lirain's grip and every muscle in her body felt ready to snap with tension. She barely remembered the words she had used to tell the story. In fact, it felt as though she had gone back in time and lived it again.

"I awaken to see everything still covered in that sickly green. Something woken me up. Something inside my mind. I feel like I'm being turned inside out for someone else's inspection. Memories flash through my head as though someone else is directing them. My eyes snap open and I see a green-clad woman sitting beside me, holding my hand. Her eyes are closed and she's concentrating. I gag at the feeling and her eyes snap open, but she doesn't stop. Get out of my head! Get out of my head!" Karissa thrashed in Lirain's grip. Through the passive connection created by their physical contact and Karissa's peculiarly receptive state, Lirain knew that she was feeling everything as Karissa had felt it. An emerging Mindspeaker, her Gift had been shocked into activity and she was sharp edged with it. The Mindhealer's experimental probing had felt to her like she was being torn apart from the inside. Spurred on by panic, Karissa had flung the power she had just become aware of into blocking out everything. The Healer had found herself abruptly flung out of her working, confronted with a hysterical child.

"She looks at me as though I did something wrong and I feel ashamed because I think I hurt her but then I don't care. I don't care! And when she leaves I don't care about that either, because I know from her mind that Sari is gone. I don't believe her. I've been drugged but my head feels clear. I am staggering out the door when my parents and Sari's come in. They are carefully not looking at each other. My father sits down on the side of the bed and tells me that we are going home. He says that he doesn't know how to tell me but that Sari has gone on. He says that that's just what happens and I don't hear anything else. That's just what happens? How can I ever have anyone again, knowing that that will happen, that one day I'll find them gone. Never again! I will never care for anyone again! We go home, but I am numb, unfeeling, almost. I do not cry. Sari's parents pack their things and one morning I awake to find them gone too. My parents look grim, tell me that they felt they had to get away, but I know better. I heard their fights. They said that the gods are unfair, to take their daughter and leave me behind. My parents say nothing. Perhaps they agree. They left because of me. We have a funeral for Sari anyway. My parents make me go, but I sneak away. I pull the scissors from my pocket and slice my long braid off as high up as I can reach. If Sari is nothing now, I will be nothing too. My parents are strange and distant and everyone else I love is gone. I don't care! I don't care! I won't cry because I don't care! I won't care ever again!"

Karissa's eyed were filled with tears. One and then another dropped down her face, giving lie to her defiant proclamation. "Oh gods, oh Sari. I can't let them near me. Neither the Healers nor the Heralds. They'll see inside me, know that I am unworthy, that I lived while she d-died. They will die too, then, and I will be alone."

Lirain made soothing sounds. Gods, what a tangle. It was no wonder that Karissa was twisted up inside. She had lost half of her family in the space of a few days, with no warning whatsoever. Still burning with Karissa's feelings, she wanted to find the Mindhealer who had been so foolish as to twist her up further and strangle the woman. It was a perfectly standard procedure to attempt a sleeping probe, especially after such traumatic circumstances, and Lirain knew it, but in this case it had been utterly wrong.

Lirain forced herself to focus on the problem at hand. Half of her work was done, she knew where the roots of the problem lay. Now she would somehow overcome Karissa's shields and find her way to the deepest layer of Karissa's self. At this point, she would have to go much deeper than she ordinarily did, but she saw no alternative. She would then dull the sharp edges she found within, extricating them from the tangle that was Karissa, leaving her free to function.

Karissa had somewhat recovered by this point. She examined Lirain's face for signs of contempt for her weakness and found none. "I told you everything, then?"

"Yes, I understand now." Lirain replied. "I can help you, but I will have to use my Gift."

Karissa visibly steeled herself, fighting a rush of purely irrational panic. "Yes. Do it." She said, before she had time to think too hard.

"I am very good, really," she said, knowing it to be the truth. "Now, I need you to relax. Just relax, let everything go. Now talk to me. I don't care what you say, just keep talking.

Lirain steadied herself, having accomplished the goal of keeping Karissa occupied with something other than what lay ahead. She probed Karissa's mind gently, heard the rising pitch of Karissa's voice indicate that she had felt the touch. Karissa's shields were as intact as ever, like a brick wall around a garden, so high it seemed to touch the sky. Just as Lirain began to despair, she felt a third presence beside her.

:Hoofless sister, take my hand:

The Mindvoice was so pure that Lirain didn't stop to question. She linked with the presence, knowing it to be Karissa's Companion. The presence showed her without words the one chink in Karissa's armor, one that Treet had created: The Herald-Companion bond. With Veria's help, Lirain saw a small door in the very corner of the wall, exactly Companion sized. The door had no lock, nor did it need one. Veria pulled Lirain through from her position on the other side.

Lirain often used garden metaphors when dealing with the mind, for she had frequently wandered the Palace gardens as a child. This garden was overgrown, filled with nettles and thorns growing across the path. Lirain could have hacked her way through with her power, but the Gods only knew what that might have done to Karissa. Instead, she carefully ducked under, stepped over or brushed aside each of the thorny vines, slowly making her way down the spiraling path towards the center. Each time she touched one of the plants, some small snippet of personality or memory came to her, but she carefully turned her back on them when she could. She knew, from her tenuous tie to her physical body, that Karissa was in fairly bad shape, but she was still talking, so Lirain resolutely ignored her.

When Lirain came to the end of the path, she found a fountain, glowing softly with yellow light. She reached out a careful mental hand to it and it shrunk away. Doggedly, she stretched her hand after it, soothing it with her mind. She finally made contact with it, prepared for the disorientation that shook her to the core as she sank into the inner region of Karissa's mind. This was Karissa, completely naked to Lirain's touch. Lirain perceived only colors, seeing patches of bright angry ones along with the healthy, each extending hair thin tendrils into the others.

Lirain formed her power into a net. She swept it across and along, gathering the red patches up, carefully sieving out the least and littlest but being careful not to touch them. Once she had them all, sharp edged and pulsing within her glowing net of power, she breathed in deeply and took the malignancy within herself. Metaphorical tongue between her teeth, she used her Empathy combined with her Mindhealing Gift to go through each phobic terror and smooth it into a ball with no power to affect what was around it. Without words, she told Karissa that it was safe to love and to be loved, tied it into a loop so that every time she began to feel afraid, she would have that thought as well. Then Lirain began to work on Karissa's fear of Healers, tying in some of herself, memories of Healers as people, as helpers, memories of compassionate moments she had seen. Now that Karissa and she were firmly linked, Lirain retreated out of the wall Karissa had set up. She stood, looking up at the walls Karissa had created, and extended a hand. Her hand seemed woefully inadequate, but she simply stretched it out, waiting, sending feelings of compassion and assurance. Lirain had imagined that it would happen slowly, and at first it did, the small cracks that heralded the explosion. Then the wall was gone as though it had never been. There was a sensation of power like a rubber band flying just past Lirain's ear and the power came to rest in its rightful place with the force of a small explosion, wracking both Lirain and Karissa with pain and throwing Lirain out of Karissa's mind with a jolt that also threw her physical body backwards.

Karissa had been sitting and shaking with fear and nausea, Veria's mental arms tight around her in support. The sensation of Lirain inside her mind was so similar to the feeling she had had on the morning of Sari's death that it took all of her courage not to resist. Suddenly, she felt a subtle sensation of pulling, of beckoning, and something within her snapped. She felt both pain and discovery at once, as though a walled off part of herself was suddenly opened. She suddenly remembered a similar feeling that had disappeared after Sari's death. She was flooded with new feelings and extreme pain, pain so deep within her that she couldn't move or thing. It began to fade slowly and she opened her eyes to see Lirain looking at her with exhaustion and pride. She slowly prodded at the places within her that had always caused her pain and found that they were still raw but slowly Healing.

"Oh Gods…" She swore. She stumbled, retching, into the bushes.

Lirain got up to go to Karissa. 'I'm coming, Treet," she vowed.


	34. Mindspeech

Disclaimer: If I ever think of something original, I'll insert it here.

Anyway, chapter 34, I'm not even going to bother with all the usual things I say about hoping this chapter will be written faster than the last, because all that seems to accomplish is me jinxing myself. Instead, I'll proceed directly to the reviews. Hey, looks like it worked! This is the fastest chapter I've gotten out in months. Of course, its also extremely short, but there you go.

Fireblade: Really? I sort of thought her story would be interesting to write as well, only I've told most of it already. I suppose I could work it as a sort of a companion piece to Greens, maybe. I'm glad you liked my description, and you're right, a Healed Karissa _will_ kick ass.

Acacia: Glad you enjoyed!

Brighid: Thanks!

Alacaeriel: Unfortunately, I don't think she'll get the chance. But she may have a few words to say _about_ him, and they won't be complementary.

Wishing: That was just her gift of Mindspeaking coming back into activity. The power that was supposed to be that sort of recoiled back, giving her access to it in its proper capacity again. I'm not exactly sure myself if the Healer involved was Rith or not – judging by the time scheme, it was either her or the Mindhealer before her.

Kathleen: Well, I wouldn't call it exactly easy, but I figured the attack thing is rather overdone.

Frequency: Always good to hear that other people love my characters like I love them. Keep reading!

Ali: Glad you liked my sideplot. Treet is coming back now, in a sort of sub-capacity, this one will still be from Karissa/Lirain PoV, but after this one, the main focus will be back on Treet. Truth to tell, Karissa sort of distracted me. She was supposed to be a walk on, damn it! About the tense change, it was really supposed to show how Karissa slipped into a trance and started reliving everything as though it were happening again. If I ever get around to doing rewrites, maybe I'll try to work on that bit.

Wizard: Thankies. The plot should be moving along nicely now, if I can just write the darn thing.

Anyway, moving on to the next chapter, where I finally do something about rescuing Treet, lest it begins to appear that he is stuck in limbo forever.

Sorry this is a really short chapter; this seemed like the logical stopping place, since I want the actual rescue to be from Herald Adin's point of view.

Chapter 34: Mindspeech

Lirain ran after Karissa, found her doubled over in the bushes. Lirain held her hand, stroked her sweat-matted blonde hair and told her how courageous she was. Not exactly an orthodox method of treating someone at least twenty years your senior, but Lirain knew that it was what Karissa needed to hear. For a moment, both of them forgot their relative ages and Lirain became simply the Healer – though the term held none of its previous connotations – and Karissa was simply the patient.

After a time, Karissa took a deep breath and nodded at Lirain in thanks. She staggered back to the clearing, sitting down heavily. "Phew." There was so much she felt she had to say, yet she said none of it, only that one exhalation.

It was as though a huge empty void had opened up inside her. Not a bad one, exactly, just an empty one. As though a monster had been riding upon her shoulder and had suddenly departed, leaving her curiously light. On the other hand, she felt rather strange to herself, as though she was a whole different person. Not something she would ever want to try again, despite the undeniable advantage of her current position.

Karissa also felt strangely wide open, something she attributed to an awakened Gift of Mindspeech. She would have to deal with it, she imagined, but she preferred to present the Heraldic Circle with a fait accompli, if at all possible. She in no way wanted to be the object of their curiosity.

As though she were reading Karissa's mind, Lirain spoke up. "We should do something about getting you shielded with some proper shields, so that you're set up to use your Gift. If you don't want to go to your Circle with this just yet, I can take you to Rith. I think she knows the basics of Gift training, she teaches the occasional Heraldic Trainees who pop up with Empathy. While Healers are naturally shielded to some degree, Empaths aren't."

Karissa noted with satisfaction that an idea that would have sent her running in the opposite direction a few scant candlemarks ago now seemed like nothing more than solid good sense. She nodded her assent and they got up to begin the leisurely walk back to the House of Healing. Karissa was a little unsteady on her feet but no more, a fact that she also noted with pleasure.

Though she had thought that she had fully grasped the implications of Lirain's work, Karissa was again shocked as she walked into the House of Healing. It might as well have been an entirely different place from the one that had haunted her memories for so long. She would never enjoy being in there, for more reasons than one, but she would never again be unable to endure it. In some ways, in fact, she found it oddly soothing, a fact she attributed to the presence of so many Empaths. Thank the gods they were well shielded, though. She also had a faint suspicion that Lirain was keeping light shields on her because she should have been able to pick up more.

Rith's office wasn't far from the House of Healing, which was a blessing for Karissa, who was beginning to feel decidedly weak at the knees after so much exertion.

Rith opened the door at their first knock. Surprisingly, not only was she in her office but it was also empty except for her. She took one look at the somewhat disheveled Karissa and at Lirain beside her and seemed to know exactly what was going on. With a gentle guiding arm, she drew Karissa into her office and sat her down in one of the comfortable chairs. Coming back outside, she motioned to Lirain and told her to go and wait in Karissa's room. "You needn't hover, I'll return her in a bit," Rith said. Lirain nodded, slightly disgruntled at being left out of the conclusion of her case. She returned to Karissa's rooms, fully intending to take a nap. Her strength was being sapped more and more easily in the past days, something she attributed to Treet's condition.

Back in Rith's office, Karissa looked at the Healer in an almost eager way. There had been a short time in her period as a Trainee when she had been just a little envious of the Trainees with strong Gifts. Now, of course, she knew better than to envy them, but she still looked forward to acquiring a new skill.

Rith sat down in an equally comfortable chair across from Karissa.

At her first sight of the Herald, she had known that Lirain had done it and had cheered internally for both of them. She had known, also, that she would have to instruct the Herald in the basics of controlling her Gift. Luckily it had spent most of her adult life too bound up to cause trouble.

"I take it you're to teach me how to shield this Gift of mine properly so that it doesn't run off with me?" Karissa asked.

"Yes, I am," Rith said. "I'll teach you to ground, center and shield, the basics. Beyond that, you'll need to get help from your circle."

Karissa nodded her understanding.

"The first step is to reach within yourself for a stable place." Rith intoned.

Karissa closed her eyes, looked within her own mind, familiar yet strange. After a few moments of searching, she found it. A merchant's daughter at heart, she saw it as that perfect button among a sea of rejects. When she held it in her hand, it felt like Veria's soft flank, the feeling of sun-warmed grass against her skin, a hot bath after a long trip.

Rith knew when Karissa had found it; she practically radiated relief. "Now, reach downwards and find the echo of that place within the earth. Once you have it, connect yourself to it."

Karissa looked. Down and down and down until she felt like she was standing at the bottom of a cliff. She found the place she was looking for, reached for it and tied herself to it for all time. As she snapped everything into place, she wondered how she had possibly missed this connection. She felt curiously stable, as though she was leaning against a tall tree.

"Now, to shield yourself. Properly, this time," Rith said, with a trace of a laugh in her voice. "Imagine a wall. A wall between yourself and the thoughts – only the thoughts – of the people around you. You put it up yourself, so you can adjust it yourself too. Make it thicker or thinner as you wish, depending on how much you want to pick up and how many people are around."

Karissa cautiously tried this, found that the knack came easily to her hand. She looked up at Rith for further instructions.

Rith laughed aloud this time. "That's it, Herald."

"That's it?" Karissa asked, scowling as if she suspected a joke.

"That's it. Just remember to check on your shields every so often until they become reflex and come to me if you have any problems."

"Oh." Karissa felt almost let down. This was what all of those Trainees had gotten special classes about?

"Of course, there's a lot more to actually using your Gift, but you'll need to see your circle for that," Rith cautioned. "Now, since that's done, Lirain will be waiting in your room becoming more impatient by the minute, so I suggest you go and join her."

Lirain had been asleep, but she bounced into life as soon as Karissa walked in the door, alert and bright-eyed. She said nothing, simply waited.

"Well," Karissa said after a moment's silence, "I suppose we'd better be about this attempt of ours."

Lirain breathed a sigh of relief. She needed to talk to Treet again with a physical ache, and the thought of what he must be suffering made her sick with anger and fear. "Yes," she breathed, daring to hope. Returning to a more businesslike demeanor, she continued, "Now, it's going to seem as though I'm reaching a hand out to you. Simply imagine yourself taking it and leading me past your shields and it shall be so." Lirain suited word to action and reached out a mental hand along with a physical one to make the link take easier.

Karissa took both with very little fumbling.

_:There. Now, think of Treet. Imagine reaching out to him, as I reached out to you.: _Lirain sent.

Karissa thought of Treet as she had last seen him. She had the disturbing sensation of hurtling through space then slamming into something hard. It was him, she knew it and through their link she knew that Lirain also knew it. She grit her teeth and rammed into it again._ :Damn it, I know you're there. You wouldn't believe what I've done to get to you, the least you can damn well do is talk to me: _Karissa mentally shouted.

Treet's head snapped up, smashing into the wall behind him. He winced, but didn't pay it any particular mind. He suspected that his arm was broken and he was so battered that he supposed another knock on the head didn't really count for much. The voice he thought he heard, however, _did_ give him pause for thought. The mindvoice was so strong that he couldn't believe he was making it up. The flavors of personality that came with it were so powerfully Karissa that he didn't think he could have faked them if he had tried.

_:Karissa.: _He said, wishing he could sound a little gladder.

Lirain's mindvoice followed hers, still weak but buoyed along with Karissa's power. _:Treet.: _The words were a caress, a gentle touch as he felt her 'look' at him.

_:You're real: _Treet said, unable to keep the rising hope out of his voice. He had begun to want to acquiesce to his Father's desires, his initial surety that he would be rescued replaced by the desire to simply stop the pain.

_:Yes, of course! Did you really think the Collegium would leave one of their own out to dry: _Karissa asked. _:There should be a Herald coming to get you out of there soon.:_

_:Until then, though, you should probably be doing something about those injuries of yours.: _Lirain suggested gently. Where Karissa's mindvoice was peppery and sharp, Lirain's was a warm, green balm. Treet had missed her, dreamed about her almost nightly. He floated in his awareness of her until a sharp mental kick from Karissa brought him back to reality. He still felt curiously lethargic, didn't feel like doing much at all. Doing brought thinking and if he thought anymore about his situation and how it had come to be, he thought he might fall apart.

With Lirain's encouragement, Treet brought to bear the Healing power he had let lie quiescent for the past week. With its up flow, he felt curiously charged. Healing oneself, of course, was rather like trying to do anything while looking in the mirror, but with Lirain's perspective subtly superimposed over his own, he spent some of his carefully hoarded energy and a good deal of Lirain's personal reserves, little did he know it, Healing the worst of his injuries. He left his arm alone, knowing that he couldn't Heal it right away and that spending that much energy on setting it would be a waste.

As though the link with Lirain had brought the thought to his head as it possibly had since it was foremost in Lirain's own mind, something suddenly occurred to Treet. _:That was you, before, really? I wasn't dreaming you up: _Treet asked Lirain.

_:No, that was really me. As I tried to tell you at the time.: _Lirain said, able to be amused now that she was back in contact with Treet.

_:So everything you told me was true: _Treet asked.

Lirain suddenly caught on. _:Treet, we're lifebonded. I love you. I know we haven't known each other for all that long, but I've loved you since I first saw you. I need you more than I've ever needed anyone before.:_ She didn't know quite what to say next, so she just fell silent.

_:I…I think I believe you.: _Treet said. Then he realized how he sounded. _:That we're lifebonded, I mean. Err.:_

_:It's alright.: _Lirain said, vastly amused now. _:I know exactly what you mean.:_

At that moment, Treet heard the sounds of a scuffle upstairs and loud angry steps descending the stairs.

"I have the authority to haul you all up on Crown charges for this! You'll tell me where he is or I'll have you up for obstruction as well!"

Hearing the echoes through Treet's mind, Karissa smiled smugly. _:The cavalry is in. And I dearly hope I get a chance at those so called parents of yours once they reach Haven: _The last was uttered in a tone which promised dire retribution, but Treet barely heard. Could it be?


	35. Rescue

Disclaimer: Good grief. Suffice to say, I disclaim everything that should be disclaimed.

Chapter 35, here we come! Once again, I shall not jinx myself by discussing how I hope it doesn't take me too long to finish the chapter, so we shall see what results this time. Heh, two months resulted. Oops. Well, on to reviews!

Lurks in Shadows: Yup, finally the cavalry has arrived. It's about time too, I'd say.

Frequency: I imagine Karissa will be fine now. Next chapter's up as soon as I kick my lazy butt into gear and write it.

Fireblade: I'm afraid you may be disappointed in that one, I don't think his parents'll be coming to Haven. It's certainly a nice thought, though.

Acacia: Yup. Although it appears Karissa wont get her chance at his parents, which would certainly be a sight to see.

Ali: Yeah, it was pretty short but hopefully this one'll be a bit longer.

Wizard: You'll see soon.

Cesy: Thanks for the grammatical help, I'd like to think my later chapters are better than the earlier in that way but concrit is always helpful. If I ever revise this thing, I'll definitely fix all that stuff.

Anyway, I guess by now everyone just wants Treet to get rescued, so I suppose I'll go off and set that up. Not much else to say here now that the story is pretty much winding down. Few more hurdles to cross, not many though. Anyhow.

Yeah, I deeply apologize for how long it took me to write this chapter. I've been so busy with school and stuff, I just haven't found the time to sit down and write.

Chapter 35: Rescue

Adin bent low over Deri's neck. Deri was not running as fast as he could, wanting to keep something in reserve in case a quick getaway was needed, but he was certainly moving very quickly and it took most of Adin's considerable skill to move with him and not end up flat on his back staring up at the sky.

Adin knew a little about the Trainee he was being sent to pluck out of harm's way, had made it his business to pry every scrap of information out of Deri, who, being a Companion, knew everything about everything, or so he thought. Adin was naturally curious, for one thing, and for another he felt that any information he could glean would make him more able to deal with the Trainee's possible hurts.

It turned out that the Trainee in question, one Tretin, had been born Holderkin and had been stolen away and brought to the Collegium by the redoubtable Herald Karissa, the very same whose circuit he had taken over. Adin and Karissa had been in the same Yeargroup at the Collegium and he remembered her as reticent though in no way shy. She had always seemed to be on the outskirts of the Trainees larks and pranks. As many of that Yeargroup had been strong Mindspeakers, they had interpreted her reticence as a natural wish for privacy and left her alone.

Deri rounded the last corner at a fast canter and broke into a village, which was currently filled with occupants wearing almost identical astonished and more than faintly disapproving expressions. Adin didn't think this was a particularly unusual state, nor did he care that he had elicited it. In all his years as a circuit rider, dealing with all sorts of insulated, provincial, prejudiced people, he had never been so tempted to simply ride in and do…something. Something that would only reinforce the image these people carried in their heads of Heralds, Adin firmly told himself, checking the impulse. His blood boiled at the thought of a helpless Healer Trainee forcibly removed from the Collegium to "have a man made out of him"

Adin rode into the center of town, well aware that he was making a spectacle of himself. He took a deep, centering breath as he had been taught, cleansing the anger from his face, ready to deal impartially with the entire town, if he had to, to get to the Holder he was looking for. He gestured at the nearest man to him. "Holder, of your kindness, direct me to the Steading of Holder Nin Lornsson?"

The man stopped, bracing himself, obviously ready for a fight. Adin's teeth ground together audibly. The man's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He scowled viciously, but pointed to the left, audibly muttering about abominations as he hurried away. Adin continued in the general direction indicated. Word traveled fast on the Border, Adin noted, seeing that there was already a man standing outside of the indicated house.

_:Go gently, Chosen: _Deri warned.

_:Of course. King's justice and all.:_

Adin approached the man, dismounting so that he could get inside the house, though the thought of riding a Companion through the halls made Adin laugh to himself. As a Trainee he had plotted such a prank many a time, imagining charging through the neatly polished floors of the Collegium, but the thought of re-polishing them all himself had dulled his enthusiasm somewhat.

Treet's father was obviously expecting a fight, though Adin was sure he looked exactly as belligerent every time a Herald showed up on his doorstep. Adin, on the other hand, didn't particularly feel like arguing. A brief rush of pleasure flooded through him at the astonished look on Nin's face as Adin, who Nin had presumed to be an effete weakling, shouldered him aside with an ease born of long training and rushed through the door.

Following the sound of weak cries, Adin left the astonished Nin behind him and pushed his way past various women, either pale and large eyed or beady eyed and calculating, and descended into what he assumed was the cellar. What he found made his blood boil within him. Treet lay on the floor, pale as death itself and bleeding from several superficial wounds to the face and arms. At least, Adin devoutly hoped they were superficial – for the sake of those who had inflicted them.

The small group of young men who surrounded Treet in a ragged semi-circle had not yet noticed Adin's presence, despite the noise he had made in his arrival. Their laughing, sneering faces all blended into one around Treet as they kicked him, shouting taunts.

Adin lunged in, interposing himself between Treet and everyone else. The boy was valiantly struggling with tears while trying to suppress the green sparks popping from his fingers. Adin nodded in approval. If Treet's Gift became visible, it would only exacerbate the situation at hand.

Adin stiffened and put on his best Heraldic face, though he had no doubt that it was completely wasted on his audience. "Have you nothing better to do than torment this child?" Adin asked, suffused with rage.

One, bolder than the others, yelled "What is it to do with you, abomination?" Adin added a checkmark to his mental tally. It served as his amusement when he found his way into Holderkin lands. His record was seventy-nine in a stay of only a week. He had made some particularly unfavorable judgments that week, though.

Adin did not reply. As though he had not heard, he picked up Treet in his arms. The boy's head lolled on his shoulders, it was almost as though he was not quite all there. Adin cautiously unshielded a little. The boy was conscious. Adin hefted him a little higher on his shoulder, acutely aware of Treet's obviously broken arm. His rage frothed and bubbled. How dare they? He would drag them to Haven and there would be reckoning! Before the King, even if Adin had to drag the King to the trial himself!

The young Holderkin men were reluctant to defy a Herald face to face; they tagged along awkwardly behind him, obviously waiting for their father to deal with this Herald who had dared intrude on their fun.

'Not so brave now, are we?' Adin thought viciously.

He permitted himself to vent his spleen but once, as he gifted Treet's so called father with a particularly vicious knee to the thigh, sending the man into a doorframe.

As Adin loaded Treet onto Deri's back, the boy winced and came to. Adin led Deri a little ways over so that they might talk in privacy. There had been specific orders about the punishment of Treet's family, much as Adin wished it were his job to apportion the penalty.

"Tretin?" Adin asked gently.

Treet blinked at him. "Herald? So you did come. She said you would. Even when I heard you, though, I thought perhaps you might not."

"Of course I did," Adin said warmly. "That's what being in the Circle is, someone will always come for you." Time ebbed and flowed around him for a moment as he remembered anew why he was a Herald. Shouts from the distance awoke him to reality and he continued quickly.

"I have crown authority to bring your father, at least, back to Haven for trial. I have been instructed, however, that the final decision on whether to do that rests with you."

Treet turned pale. "Bring him back with us? No." The thought of having his father in the same city, even as a prisoner, made his blood flow cold.

Adin misinterpreted his pallor. "He wouldn't be able to hurt you again. Our jails are very secure."

Treet shook his head. His father in Haven, despoiling what little happiness Treet had found, polluting it with his very presence, the need to constantly watch, wait, lest behind a shadow should lurk a vengeful relative? This could not be tolerated.

"Just make it so that he cannot touch me again and I will be content. He does not really deserve to be punished, he is only doing what he was raised to do." Treet said wearily.

Adin opened his mouth to protest, but Deri had other ideas.

_:He is right, Chosen. You have legal authority; simply force them to disown their child. Haven will be his home and we his family, he needs no other.:_

Adin said nothing, walked back over to where Treet's family waited, obviously nerving themselves to come after him. He did not wait for them to speak first.

"You will give up custody of this child to the kingdom of Valdemar and her king. You will never seek contact with him again. Should you refuse, you will come to Haven with me and argue the point with the King from one of his jails."

Nin's eyes met Adin's and he saw the deadly seriousness there. "Be welcome to him, then. He would only pollute our bloodlines with his taint," Nin said ill-naturedly.

Adin sighed with relief. There had been the makings of a fight there, but it had not materialized. 'Takes some of the fun out of it when you're facing royal justice, no?' Adin thought sardonically.

"Repeat after me, then," Adin commanded, then recited a simple oath and a formal passing over of the child Tretin to the custody of the King. Nin muttered it after him. It was good enough for Adin. Without further ado, Adin remounted his Companion, balancing Treet carefully on the saddle so as not to jar his arm any more than necessary. Adin would set it when they came to a Waystation, and see about assessing Treet's condition, but for now he simply wanted to brush the dust of the place from Deri's hooves.


	36. Greens

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own any of this.

-Bows head in shame- I can't believe it's been half a year since I updated. I'm so sorry – I hope I actually still have readers after not writing for so long. I've just been utterly overwhelmed with school and exams and I just haven't had any time at all. Only seven chapters left in the story, as well. Please forgive me, all; I promise I'll try and finish the story with haste, after all this time.

Reviews, if anyone still remembers what they wrote to me a whole half year ago –hangs head lower-

Ali – it didn't take you as long to get around to reading as it did for me to get around to writing chapter 36! Glad you approved of Treet's decision.

Ocean: Yeah, it had gotten about time I pulled his rear out of the fire. Of course there will be a reunion, and a couple more minor surprises before I close up shop for good.

Kathleen: Nope, not many more twists to go. I thought Karissa would go after him too, but I needed some reason to get her all mentally fixed up.

Fireblade: Sorry about the anti-climax. In all honesty, I didn't really feel up to writing a fighting scene, I don't know very much at all about fighting or battles or anything like that, so I decided to end it peacefully.

Frequency: Oh, I'd DEFINITELY have done more damage than Adin did…with steel-tied boots and possibly a very long and pointy metal object or so. But what can you do? These merciful Herald types…-shakes head-

Now, without further ado, on to the MUCH awaited and, I'm afraid, maybe a little short, chapter 36!

Chapter 36: Greens

Lirain awoke to a timid rapping on her door. She blinked bleary eyes, trying to bring her room into focus, and realized with a start that it must be past suppertime, for the time candle on her dresser had burned down almost to the bottom.

Lirain pulled open the door to find a short, scrawny looking page standing outside, proffering a note. She waved him away with automatic thanks and unfolded the note, wondering who could have sent it. She could think of many people who might be looking for her, but almost none who would send a note with a page rather than coming to find her themselves.

As she opened the note, her heart jumped into her throat. What if something was wrong with Treet? What if his family had gone after him again? Like a drowning man grasping for a lifejacket, she clawed at the faint and incomplete link between her and her lifebonded with a mental hand and nearly sank to the floor with relief when she detected only a brooding sense of thought and faint, old pain, untainted by the sharp tang of fear or threat.

_Lirain,_

_Please stop by my office as soon as you see this note; I have something to discuss with you._

_Rith_

Lirain read the note over again, puzzled. She would very probably have gone to see Rith sooner or later anyway, very possibly as soon as she got up. Why on earth would Rith send her a note?

'Whatever it was,' Lirain decided, 'if it has warranted sending a page with it, it must be important.' Closing the door again, she quickly threw on a clean pale green robe over a tunic and trews. When she had done that, she went down the hall to the Trainees' bathing room and splashed some water on her face, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes.

For the first time in days, her head felt completely clear, and she reveled in the clarity. She hadn't slept well since Treet had left, and that combined with the complexity and difficulty of Healing Karissa and the emotional and mental strain of reaching Treet that last time had left her reserves almost completely depleted. She knew that she still wasn't up to full strength, but she was much closer than she had been when she fell wearily into her bed the previous day, and there was no longer anything wrong with her that time and a few more nights' solid slumber wouldn't cure. Still, she reflected as she strode quickly and confidently to Rith's office, she would sleep easier still when Treet was safely home and she could be with him again.

Lirain knocked on Rith's door and announced herself. It didn't do to just walk into a Healer's office, especially a Mindhealer's office; you never knew when you might interrupt something delicate.

Lirain had become easy with Rith over the past years; as soon as she heard Rith call for her to enter, she walked in, closing the door behind her, sank into a chair without waiting for an invitation to sit, and eyed Rith with barely-concealed curiosity.

Rith saw her barely suppressed emotion and laughed to herself, far merrier than she had been in a while. "It's good to see you looking like a living thing again, child, and not like something out of a horror tale, and better yet to see your eyes with some sparkle and less of the dark bags."

The assessment was half-friendly and half-clinical but all in complete seriousness.

Lirain nodded, sobered slightly by the memory of the terrible days she had endured, a memory that had faded away into a blur of fear and pain and sleeplessness.

"Anyway," Rith continued, lightening the mood again. "I didn't call you here to make you gloomy again. I actually wanted to discuss something good with you."

Lirain leaned forward slightly.

"As you know," Rith began, steepling her fingers in front of her and looking irritatingly pleased with herself, or so it appeared to Lirain, "it is the right of your mentor, namely me, to decide when you have completed the requirements of your training and have attained the level of competence necessary to call yourself a full Healer."

Lirain nodded, wondering what Rith was up to. Come to think of it, it had been almost four years since she had begun training with Rith.

"I wonder…" she thought to herself, not wanting to entertain the notion in case she should be wrong and be disappointed.

"I have to admit, I was waiting to test you with a complex case, to see how you would handle it on your own, without my help. If Karissa hadn't shown up so providentially, I would have found you something, of course, but once you met Treet and I realized that the you and he were Lifebonded, I suspected that you would eventually be called on to demonstrate your considerable skill with Karissa. Of course, I didn't realize that the circumstances would be quite so dire," Rith said.

Rith's face twisted in an expression of distaste and Lirain's echoed the expression more strongly still, thinking of several unHealer-ly things she would like to do to Treet's so-called family.

"Anyway," Rith continued. "I thought that perhaps Karissa would be more comfortable with you than with me, since you are lifebonded to the closest thing she has to a friend, and it seems that my predictions were accurate. Your work with Karissa, who, I think, would have been a test even to my skills, was entirely satisfactory, though I don't know the details, of course," Rith said, sharing a small smile with Lirain.

Lirain might have felt affronted at the word 'satisfactory,' but she knew that Rith was really paying her a compliment, acknowledging her as an equal and fellow Healer; obviously a teacher would know exact details of even the most advanced student's work, but a colleague would know nothing more than whether or not the Healing had been a success.

"Lirain," Rith said in a formal tone, "As of this day, I am prepared to deem you competent as a fully trained Mindhealer and member of the Healers' Circle. Are you willing to swear to our craft once and for all, for the rest of your days?"

Lirain felt awash with such joy that she almost couldn't contain it. She had known, of course, that the day would come when she would take up a full Healer's Greens, probably staying at the Collegium because of the rarity of Mindhealers, but able to take a larger portion of the burden from Rith's shoulders, and finally able to practice her craft in her own right. She nodded an answer to Rith's question, too overcome to speak.

Rith stood up and came over to where Lirain was seated, taking Lirain's hands in her own and looking into her eyes. Lirain would have to take a formal oath in front of the full Healers' Circle at their next meeting, but she and Rith both knew that that oath was a formality only, and that it was really this pledging that made her a Healer.

Lirian felt the light brush of Rith's mind against her shields and gladly opened them, allowing Rith into her mind. The oath of the Healers was given not with MindSpeech, for not all of the Healers had that Gift, but with Empathy, which all Healers had a touch of.

Lirain displayed her feelings for Rith to see: her desire to help and to serve, in any way possible, her joy in her craft and her absolute devotion to the way of the Healer.

Rith withdrew from Lirain's mind, projecting acceptance and a joy equal to that of her student.

"From this moment forth, you must consider yourself no longer under my tutelage. Instead, your responsibilities will lie with the Healers' Circle and with the well-being of your patients, to whom you owe your best service," Rith said solemnly before hugging Lirain like the mother she really was.

"Not, of course, that you won't always be welcome in my office as a colleague and friend," Rith whispered in Lirain's ear as she embraced the newly-christened Healer.

Lirain smiled, a smile of pure and brilliant joy. "I won't let you down," she pledged. "I'll help you, take up enough of the work that you can have a rest."

Rith smiled slightly. "I look forward to it."

From her desk drawer, Rith pulled out a set of full Healer's Greens. "Housekeeping should be making you up some sets of Greens in your size, but I took the liberty of having this one set requisitioned a moon or so ago, when it first begun to seem like you were ready; I thought you wouldn't want to have to wait for Housekeeping to take the correct size out of storage and bring them to you."

Lirain took the bundle from her teacher, thanking Rith profusely. Rith was right; she didn't want to wait. Even now, she was itching to run back to her rooms and admire herself in the mirror before running to find all of her friends to tell them her news. She would be the second of her Yeargroup to receive Greens; Jodyn had gotten his from Healer Rhea nearly two weeks ago.

The only sadness in her ocean of joy was that the person she wanted to tell most of all wasn't around to see her triumph.


End file.
